Page 14 of Cinderella and the Outback Billionaire

‘I mean it.’

Maybe he did in the here and now, but Ari wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d keep his word. They’d patch him up good as new and he wouldn’t remember a thing about her.

‘Give me another memory. Who’s your favourite person?’ he asked.

His words were starting to slur, and she desperately wanted him to stay awake, because every time he slipped from consciousness she thought he might never wake again. ‘My mother. She passed.’

‘Not your father?’

‘He’s not in my life. My mother never had much to say about anything, least of all him. He was a passing stockman from up north. A charming one-night stand. That’s all I know.’

Ari squeezed his hand. He really did respond beautifully to touch. Maybe she’d respond that way too if she couldn’t see anything. ‘So talking wasn’t her thing but she had the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen. She could tell me she loved me and was proud of me with a glance. If I ever got a good mark at school, her eyes would show her pride. If I ever made something for her—kid stuff like a wind chime made out of a bunch of sticks held together with baling twine—she’d look at me with such love. When I was thoughtful and careful with what we had, her eyes would smile and she’d nod and I’d know I was loved. Even when—’ Not so good, those later memories. ‘Even when she married and got really busy and had my little stepbrother and stepfather to look after, she still loved me with her eyes.’

When she could. Ari’s stepfather had been a jealous man, always resentful of any love shown to Ari. As if there weren’t enough of it to go around...

‘I bet she looked at you like that a lot. You have a kind heart.’

‘You think so?’ Ari made light of his compliment, not wanting to reveal the truth of those later years when her mother would barely look at her at all for fear one of them would end up with a beating. ‘Because I’ve just realised that I’ve been banging on about visual memories to a guy who currently can’t see.’

‘I can see blurry shapes,’ he offered quietly. ‘There’s light and dark.’

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d turned the light off long ago and they were talking in complete darkness. ‘I washed some of the blood out of your good eye while you were out for the count.’

‘I wish I could see you.’

She didn’t know why those few words touched her so deeply. ‘Yeah, well. Nothing fancy to see here, but I hope you see again soon. Mind you, if I’m being totally honest, there’s something freeing about communicating with you in the dark using words and touch. I feel comfortable here with you like this. Almost as if I’m your equal. I’m not as self-conscious about my looks or the cheap clothes I’ve got on.’

‘I don’t judge people by their looks,’ he growled.

‘Yeah, you do. You were quite happy to picture me as a beautiful Bond girl.’

He swore softly, likely because she had him cornered. ‘Well, I don’t judge people by their bank balance,’ he said next.

‘Sure, you do. We all do, and the world is poorer for it.’ She lay back beside him, shoulder to shoulder in the cramped little tent, and listened for his breathing. ‘What’s your favourite musical instrument? Mine’s guitar. I can’t read music or anything and I’m pretty sure I don’t have perfect pitch. Nor can I listen to a song and play it from memory, but I like having a bash anyway.’

‘Describe your mother’s eyes whenever you played guitar.’ His voice was getting weaker.

‘Who knows? She always got as far away as she could so she didn’t have to listen to it.’

‘Funny girl.’

She closed her eyes and tried to figure out the blends that went into the making of his voice. Warmth wrapped around a core of pain that likely wasn’t always present. Occasional sharpness that came with anger. A burr full of humour, pricking at a person’s ears at unexpected times. Curiosity—how could a person explain the sound of curiosity? But it was there. She liked his voice a lot. Always had, even when she was a kid.

Not that she’d ever crushed on him as a kid—he’d been so much older, but still. The teenage boy with the ready smile hadn’t lost his kindness.

‘Who are you?’ he rasped, and she was about to tell him she was Ari, Ari Cohen, his housekeeper’s niece, and she’d tagged along with her aunt sometimes as a kid and met him way back when.

But he was already unconscious again.

Ari rose with the dawn and gently shook Reid semi-awake. He didn’t seem to know where he was at all but she’d promised not to leave without saying goodbye and she also took the opportunity to feed him two more painkillers and get him to drink some water. She left the mostly full water bottle near his uninjured hand, although even that had swollen overnight.

‘Reid, I’m heading up to the escarpment now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

She rubbed his shoulder but he didn’t rouse. One eye had swollen shut altogether and his other remained closed. His temperature had stayed up and she’d taken to pouring water on his bandages to cool him down, but it wasn’t enough to stop his fever. He needed proper medical care.

She pressed her lips to his cheek for no other reason than if he died from his injuries, she wanted his last human touch to honour love.

In dawn’s half-light she packed her ute and turned the key, and, after a few coughs and splutters, the engine roared to life. She’d been worried it wouldn’t start because of the dust she’d driven through to reach Reid, but it seemed okay. Sweetie, don’t fail me now. She set out towards the escarpment, following no track whatsoever, because she’d gone off road to find him and off road she would stay until she picked up the trail.

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