Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek

She had realised it was futile to press her mother about Harold’s creepiness—mainly because she knew how desperate her mother was to believe he was perfect. Harold was such a hotshot in their regional town. He was the mayor, for heaven’s sake, and Ellie was afraid that, if she pushed her case, she might cause the whole thing to blow up somehow and become a horrible public scandal.

So she’d headed north to Queensland, where she’d scored a job as a jillaroo on a cattle property. Over the next few years, she’d worked on several properties—a mustering season here, a calving season there. Gradually she’d acquired more and more skills.

On one property she’d joined a droving team and she’d helped to move a big mob of cattle hundreds of kilometres. She was given her own horses to ride every day. And, finally, she was living the country life she’d dreamed of, the life she’d anticipated when she was almost thirteen. Before her father died.

Whenever she phoned home or returned home for the shortest possible visits, she was barely civil to Harold. He got the message. Fortunately, he’d never stepped out of line again, but Ellie would never trust him again either.

Trust...

Thinking about all of this now, Ellie was struck by a thought so suffocating she could scarcely breathe.

Oh, my God. Is that my problem? Trust issues?

That was it, wasn’t it?

She clung to the railing, struggling for air. Her problems with Joe had nothing to do with whether or not she was attracted to him. The day they met remained the stand-alone most significant moment of her life.

She’d taken one look at Joe Madden, with his sexy blue eyes, his ruggedly cute looks, his wide-shouldered lean perfection and nicest possible smile, and she’d fallen like a stone.

But I couldn’t trust Joe.

When it came to coping with the ups and downs of a long-term marriage, she hadn’t been strong enough to deal with her disappointments. She’d lost faith in herself, lost faith in the power of love.

Ellie thought again about her father climbing a windmill and dying before he could keep his promise to her. She thought about her creepy stepfather, who’d broken her trust in a completely different way. By the time she’d married Joe...

I never really expected to be happy. Not for ever. I couldn’t trust our marriage to work. It was almost as if I expected something to go wrong.

It was such a shock to realise this now.

Too late.

Way too late.

She’d never even told Joe about her stepfather. She’d left it as a creepy, shuddery, embarrassing part of her past that she’d worked hard to bury.

But that hadn’t affected how she’d truly felt about him.

She’d loved Joe.

Despite the mixed-up and messy emotional tornado that had accompanied her fertility issues and ultimately destroyed their marriage, she’d truly loved him—even when he’d proposed their divorce and he’d told her he was leaving for the Army.

And now?

Now, she was terribly afraid that she’d never really stopped loving him. But how crazy was that when their divorce was a fait accompli?

No wonder she was tense.

Ellie thumped the railing with a frustrated fist. At the same moment, from down the veranda she heard the squeaky hinge of the French windows that led from the lounge room. Then footsteps. She stiffened, turned to see Joe. He was alone.

She drew a deep breath and braced herself. Don’t screw this up again. Behave.

‘Are you OK?’ Joe asked quietly.

‘Yes, thanks.’

He came closer and stood beside her at the railing, looking out at the soggy paddocks. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie. I’m sorry for getting stuck into you. My timing’s been lousy, coming back here at Christmas.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m making too big a deal about the whole Christmas thing.’

‘But that’s fair enough. It’s the first Christmas Jacko’s been old enough to understand.’

She sighed, felt emotionally drained. Exhausted. ‘Where’s Jacko now?’

‘In the lounge room. Still hiding the bear, I hope. Persistent little guy, isn’t he?’ Joe slid her a tentative sideways smile.

She sent a shy smile back.

Oh, if only they could continue to smile—or, at the very least, to be civilised. Joe was right. For Jacko’s sake, they had to try. For the next couple of days—actually, for the next couple of decades till Jacko was an adult, they had to keep up a semblance of friendship.

Friendship, when once they’d been lovers, husband and wife.

‘I got my knickers in a twist when you suggested I wasn’t sensitive about Jacko,’ Ellie admitted. ‘It felt unfair. He’s always been my first concern.’

‘You’ve done an amazing job with the boy. He’s a great little guy. A credit to you.’

The praise surprised her. Warmed her.

‘I don’t know how you’ve done it out here on your own,’ Joe added.

‘The nanny’s been great. But I’ll admit it hasn’t always been easy.’ She stole another quick glance at him, saw his deep brow, his wide cheekbones, his slightly crooked nose and strong shadowed jaw. She felt her breathing catch. ‘I guess this can’t be easy for you now. Coming back from the war and everything.’

When he didn’t answer, she tried again, ‘Was it bad over there?’

A telltale muscle jerked. ‘Sometimes.’

Ellie knew he’d lost soldier mates, knew he must have seen things that haunted him. But Special Forces guys hardly ever talked about where they’d been or what they’d done—certainly not with ex-wives.

‘I was one of the lucky ones,’ he said. ‘I got out of it unscathed.’

Unscathed emotionally? Ellie knew that the Army had changed its tactics, sending soldiers like Joe on shorter but more frequent tours of duty in an effort to minimise post-traumatic stress, but she was quite sure that no soldier returned from any war without some kind of damage.

I haven’t helped. This hasn’t been a very good homecoming for him.

Quickly, bravely, she said, ‘For the record, Joe, it isn’t true.’

He turned, looking at her intently. ‘What do you mean?’ His blue eyes seemed to penetrate all the way to her soul.

Her heart began to gallop. She couldn’t back down now that she’d begun. ‘What you said before—that I can’t bear the sight of you—it’s not true.’ So not true.

‘That’s the way it comes across.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. Really sorry.’

She could feel the sudden stillness in him, almost as if she’d shot him. He was staring at her, his eyes burning. With doubt?

Ellie’s eyes were stinging. She didn’t want to cry, but she could no longer see the paddocks. Her heart was racing.

She almost told Joe that she actually fancied the sight of him. Very much. Too much. That was her problem. That was why she was tense.

But it was too late for personal confessions. Way too late. Years and years too late.

Instead she said, ‘I know I’ve been stupidly tense about everything, but it’s certainly not because I can’t stand the sight of you.’ Quite the opposite.

She blinked hard, wishing her tears could air-dry.

Joe’s knuckles were white as he gripped the veranda railing and she wondered what he was thinking. Feeling. Was he going over her words?

It’s certainly not because I can’t stand the sight of you.

Could he read between the lines? Could he guess she was still attracted? Was he angry?

It felt like an age before he spoke.

Eventually, he let go of the railing. Stepped away and drew a deep breath, unconsciously drawing her attention to his height and the breadth of his shoulders. Then he rested his hands lightly on his hips, as if he was deliberately relaxing.

‘OK, here’s a suggestion,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. Why don’t we declare a truce?’

‘A truce? For Christmas?’

‘Why not? Even in World War One there were Germans and our blokes who stopped fighting in the trenches for Christmas. So, what do you reckon?’

Ellie almost smiled. She really liked the idea of a Christmas truce. She’d always liked to have a goal. And a short-term goal was even better. Doable.

‘I reckon we should give it a shot,’ she said. If soldiers could halt a world war for a little peace and goodwill at Christmas, she and Joe should at least make an effort.

He was watching her with a cautious smile. ‘Can we shake on it?’

‘Sure.’

His handclasp was warm and strong and, for Ellie, just touching him sparked all sorts of flashpoints. But now she had to find a way to stay calm. Unexcited. Neutral.

Her goal was peace and goodwill. For Christmas.

Their smiles were uncertain but hopeful.

But then, in almost the same breath, they both remembered.

‘Jacko,’ they exclaimed together and together they hurried down the veranda to the lounge room.

There was no sign of their son, just his teddy bear lying abandoned on the floor near the empty cartons.

Ellie hurried across the room and down the hallway to the kitchen. ‘Jacko?’ she called, but he wasn’t there either.

Joe was close behind her. ‘He can’t have gone far.’

‘No.’ She went back along the hallway to the bedrooms, calling, ‘Jacko, where are you?’ Any minute she would hear his giggle.

But he wasn’t in his room. Or in her bedroom. Or in the study, or Nina’s room. The bathroom was empty. A wild, hot fluttering unfurled in Ellie’s chest. It was only a small house. There wasn’t anywhere else to look.

She rushed back to the lounge room as Joe came through the front door.

‘I’ve checked the veranda,’ he said.

‘He’s not here.’ Ellie’s voice squeaked.

‘He must be here. Don’t panic, Ellie.’

She almost fell back into her old pattern, hurling defensive accusations. How could you have left him?

But she was silenced by the quiet command in Joe’s voice, and by the knowledge that she’d been the one who stormed out.

‘What was Jacko doing before you came outside to talk to me?’ she asked with a calmness that surprised her.

‘He was playing hide and seek with the bear. Here.’ Joe swished aside the long curtain beside the door.

Ellie gasped.

Jacko was sitting against the wall, perfectly still and quiet, peeping out from beneath his blond fringe, hugging his grubby knees.

‘Boo!’ he said with a proud grin. ‘I hided, Mummy.’

They fell on him together, crouching to hug him, laughing shakily. United by their mutual relief.

It wasn’t a bad way to start a truce.

* * *

Dinner that night was leftover Spanish chicken. For Joe and Ellie the atmosphere was, thankfully, more relaxed than the night before, and afterwards, while Ellie read Jacko bedtime stories, Joe did kitchen duty, rinsing the plates, stacking the dishwasher and wiping the bench tops.

By the time he came back from checking the station’s working dogs and making sure the chicken coop was locked safely from dingoes, Ellie was at the kitchen table, looking businesslike with notepaper and pen, and surrounded by recipe books.

‘I need to plan our Christmas dinner menu,’ she said, flipping pages filled with lavish and brightly coloured Christmas fare.

‘I don’t suppose I can help?’

She looked up at him, her smile doubtful but curious. ‘How are your cooking skills these days?’

‘About the same as they were last time I cooked for you.’

‘Steak and eggs.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘I was hoping for something a little more celebratory for Christmas.’

‘Well, if you insist on being fussy...’ He pretended to be offended, but he was smiling as he switched on the kettle. ‘I’m making tea. Want some?’

‘Thanks.’

At least the truce seemed to be working. So far.

While Joe hunted for mugs and tea bags, Ellie returned to her recipe books, frowning and looking pensive as she turned endless pages. As far as Joe could tell, she didn’t seem to be having much luck. Every so often she made notes and chewed on her pen and then, a few pages later, she scratched the notes out again.

‘Our Christmas dinner doesn’t have to be lavish,’ he suggested as he set a mug of tea with milk and one sugar in front of her. ‘I’m fine with low-key.’

‘I’m afraid it’ll have to be low-key. We don’t have much choice.’

With an annoyed frown, Ellie pushed the books away, picked up the tea mug and sipped. ‘Nice tea, thanks.’ She let out a heavy sigh. ‘The problem is, I didn’t order a lot of things in for Christmas. Jacko and I were supposed to be spending the day with Chip and Sara Anderson on Lucky Downs. All they wanted me to bring was homemade shortbread and wine and cheese. But now, with the creeks up, we won’t be able to get there.’

She waved her hand at the array of books. ‘Some people spend weeks planning their Christmas menus and here am I, just starting. Yikes, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.’

Joe helped himself to a chair and picked up the nearest book: Elegant and Easy Christmas.

‘Those recipes are gorgeous,’ Ellie said. ‘But they all need fancy ingredients that I don’t have.’

He flicked through pages filled with tempting pictures—a crab cocktail starter, turkey breast stuffed with pears and chestnut and rosemary, a herb-crusted standing rib roast, pumpkin and caramel tiramisu.

‘I see what you mean,’ he said. ‘These are certainly fancy. Would it help if we make a list of the things you have in store?’

‘Well, yes, I guess that’s sensible.’ Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve a pretty good range of meat, but my problem is the trimmings. I don’t have the sauces and spices and fancy herbs and that sort of thing. So I’m afraid we’re stuck with ordinary, boring stuff. For Christmas!’

‘Hmm.’

She looked up, eyeing Joe suspiciously. ‘You’re frowning and muttering. What does that mean?’

‘It means I’m thinking.’ Truth was—an exciting idea had flashed into his head. Crazy. Probably impossible.

But it was worth a try.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, jumping to his feet. ‘I need to make a phone call.’

‘There’s a phone here.’ Ellie nodded to the wall phone.

‘It’s OK. I’ve bought a sat phone, and I have the numbers stored.’

She looked understandably puzzled.

Adorably puzzled, Joe thought as he left the room.

By the light of the single bulb on the veranda, he found the number he wanted. Steve Hansen was an ex-Army mate and, to Joe’s relief, Steve answered the call quickly.

‘Steve, Joe Madden here. How are you?’

‘I’m fine, Joe, heard you were back. How are you, mate? More importantly, where are you? Any chance of having a Christmas drink with us?’

‘That’s why I’m ringing,’ Joe said. ‘I’ve a huge favour to ask.’

‘Well, ask away, mate. We both know how much I owe you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have flown home from Afghanistan in a wooden box. So, what is it?’

CHAPTER SEVEN

MIDAFTERNOON ON CHRISTMAS Eve and the Karinya kitchen was a hive of activity.

At one end of the table, Ellie and Jacko were cutting shortbread dough into star shapes—with loads of patience on Ellie’s part. At the other end, Joe, having consulted an elderly everyday cookbook, was stuffing a chicken with a mix of onion, soft breadcrumbs and dried herbs. To Ellie’s amusement, he was tackling the task with the serious concentration of a heart surgeon.

By now the rain had stopped and the air was super-hot and sticky—too hot and sticky for the ceiling fan to make much difference. Flies buzzed at the window screens and from outside came the smell of once parched earth now turned to mud.

With the back of her hand, Ellie wiped a strand of damp hair from her eyes. She was used to hot Christmases and she’d come to terms with the ordinariness of this year’s Christmas fare so, despite the conditions, she was actually feeling surprisingly upbeat.

She was certainly enjoying her truce with Joe.

And yet she was nervous about this situation. Playing happy families with her ex had to be risky. It was highly possible that she was enjoying Joe’s company far too much. Already, today they’d caught themselves laughing a couple of times.

Surely that had to be dangerous?

Could laughter lead to second thoughts? Could she find herself weakening and becoming susceptible to Joe’s charms, just as her mother had warned?

Then again, she knew these happy vibes couldn’t last. By Boxing Day, she and Joe would be back to normal.

Normal and divorced and leading separate peaceful lives.

‘OK,’ she said briskly, whipping her attention from her broken marriage to her neat sheets of shortbread stars and her small son’s not-so-neat efforts. ‘I think it’s time to pop these gourmet masterpieces into the—’

She stopped in mid-sentence as an approaching sound caught her attention.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump...

Jacko squealed. ‘Heli-chopper!’

Joe looked up from his task of stitching the chicken and grinned. ‘That’s probably Steve.’

‘Steve?’ Ellie frowned as the roar of the chopper blades grew louder. Closer.

‘Steve Hansen. A mate of mine from the Army. He got out last year.’

‘Oh.’

In a heartbeat Ellie guessed exactly what this meant. Joe was no longer stranded here. She went cold all over. Joe had found an escape route. A friend with a helicopter was coming to his rescue. He was about to leave her again.

Ridiculously, she began to shiver in spite of the heat. This was the reason for last night’s mysterious and secretive phone call. Joe had never explained, and all morning she’d been wondering.

Now, with an effort, she dredged up a smile. ‘Well, that’s your Christmas sorted.’

Joe looked at her strangely, but anything he might have said was drowned by the helicopter’s noisy arrival directly above the homestead roof.

There’d been helicopters at Karinya before. They’d come to help with the mustering, so little Jacko wasn’t frightened by the roaring noise. In fact he was squealing with delight as he dashed to the window.

The chopper was landing on the track beside the home paddock and, with a whoop of excitement, Joe picked the boy up and flipped him high onto his broad shoulders.

Ellie gulped. The sight of her son up on his father’s big shoulders was...

Breathtaking...

‘Are you coming to say hello to Steve?’ Joe called to her before he hurried outside, leaving her with her arms akimbo and a table covered with raw chicken and unbaked cookies.

* * *

Ellie had no idea how long this interruption would take, so she found space for the uncooked food in the fridge.

By then, the helicopter had landed and Joe and Jacko were waiting at the bottom of the front steps until the blades stopped whirring. Jacko was jigging with excitement. Ellie’s stomach felt hollow as she joined them.

It’s OK. I’ll be fine. Joe has to leave some time, and it’s probably easier to say goodbye now, without going through the whole business of Christmas first.

Joe was grinning at her, his rugged face relaxed and almost boyish with excitement. He looked a bit like Jacko. Or Jacko looked like him.

It wasn’t a cheering thought now, when he was about to leave them. Ellie’s heart did a sad little back-flip.

The rotor blades slowed. A door in the helicopter opened and a beefy red-haired pilot with a wide friendly grin appeared.

‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ he called jauntily as he climbed down.

‘Merry Christmas!’ responded Joe and the two men greeted each other with handshakes and hearty back slaps. Joe’s smile was wide as he turned back to Ellie and Jacko. ‘Come and meet Steve. He was in Afghanistan with me, but he’s set up in Townsville now and he’s started his own chopper charter business.’

Pinning on her brightest smile, Ellie took Jacko’s hand and encouraged him forward. ‘Hi, Steve. Nice to meet you.’

‘You, too,’ Steve said warmly. ‘Merry Christmas.’ He shook hands with Ellie, then bent to ruffle Jacko’s hair. ‘Hello, young fella. You’re a chip off the old block if ever I saw one.’

‘This is Jacko,’ Joe said proudly, adding a bright-eyed smile that included Ellie.

‘Hi, Jacko.’ Steve waggled his eyebrows comically, making the little boy giggle.

To Ellie, he said, ‘I remember how excited Joe was when this little bloke was born. The news came through when we were all in the mess. You should have seen this man.’ He slapped a big hand on Joe’s shoulder. ‘He was so damn proud, handing around his phone with a photo of his son.’

‘How...how nice.’ Ellie was somewhat stunned. She glanced at Joe, saw the quick guarded look in his eyes, which he quickly covered with an elaborate smile.

‘And now Jacko’s a whole two years old,’ Joe said.

‘You’re a lucky little bloke, Jacko,’ announced Steve and then he nodded to the helicopter. ‘And you’re certainly in for an exciting Christmas.’

An exciting Christmas? Ellie frowned. What was this about?

She was struck by a ghastly thought. Surely Joe wasn’t planning to take Jacko with him? ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.

Now it was Steve who frowned.

‘Everything’s fine, Ellie,’ Joe intercepted quickly in his most soothing tone. ‘Steve’s brought out extra things for Christmas.’ Turning to Steve, he said, ‘I haven’t told Ellie about this. I was keeping it as a surprise.’

‘Ah!’ Steve’s furrowed brow cleared and was replaced by another grin. He winked at Ellie. ‘Romantic devil, isn’t he?’

Clearly Joe’s Army mates didn’t know about their divorce. Ellie found it difficult to hold her smile.

‘Stand back then, Mrs Madden, while we get this crate unloaded.’

Dazed, she watched as Steve Hansen climbed back into the helicopter and began to hand down boxes and packages, which Joe retrieved and stacked on the ground.

There was an amazing array. Boxes, supermarket bags, wrapped parcels. A snowy-white Styrofoam box with Townsville Cold Stores stamped on the side.

As the last carton came out, Joe turned to Ellie with a complicated lopsided grin. ‘I thought you deserved a proper Christmas. You know, some of the fancy things you were missing.’

She gave a bewildered shake of her head. ‘You mean this is all fancy Christmas food? For me?’

‘North Queensland’s freshest and best,’ responded Steve from the cockpit doorway. ‘I set my wife Lauren on the hunt and she’s one hell of a shopper.’

Ellie was stunned. ‘Thank you. And please thank Lauren.’ Again she was shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe you and your wife have gone to so much trouble, especially on Christmas Eve. It’s such a busy time.’

Steve shrugged. ‘Joe knew exactly what he wanted, and bringing it out here has been my pleasure.’ He gave another of his face-splitting smiles. ‘Besides, I’d do anything for your husband. You know Joe saved my life?’

‘No,’ Ellie said faintly. ‘I didn’t know that.’ She hardly knew anything about Joe’s time in the Army.

‘Out in Oruzgan Province. Your crazy husband here broke cover to draw enemy fire. I was literally pinned between a rock and a hard place and—’

‘Steve,’ Joe interrupted, raising his hand for silence, ‘Ellie doesn’t need to hear your war stories.’

But Steve was only silenced momentarily. ‘He’s way too modest,’ he said, cocking his thumb towards Joe. ‘They’re saying we’re all heroes, but take it from me—your husband is a true hero, Ellie. I guess he’s never told you. He risked his life to save mine. He was mentioned in despatches, you know, and the Army doesn’t hand those out every day.’

‘Wow,’ Ellie said softly.

Wow was about all she could manage. The admiration and gratitude in Steve’s eyes was so very genuine and sincere. She had difficulty breathing.

He risked his life to save mine.

But Joe obviously hadn’t told Steve that he was now divorced, which made this moment rather confusing and embarrassing for Ellie, not to mention overwhelming. Her throat was too choked for speech. Her lips were trembling. She pressed a hand to her mouth, willing herself not to lose it in front of these guys.