Page 75 of Lost In Kakadu

“No peeking.” He walked her to the table and released his hands. “Ta da!”

“A chicken!”

“Actually, I believe it’s a scrub turkey.”

“It’s beautiful.” She stroked its feathers.

“And it’s going to taste bloody beautiful after I roast it.”

“Roast turkey! It’ll be like Christmas.”

“But wait, there’s more.” He reached down and presented her with the bowl of eggs.

Her eyes lit up. “It is Christmas!”

“It’s better than Christmas,” he said flatly.

“Nothing’s better than Christmas.” She shook her head.

“Everything’s better than Christmas.”

Frowning, she cocked her head and Mackenzie instantly regretted his comment. Abi was unrelenting when she sensed something amiss. Before the night was through, he’d be telling her another childhood memory that he’d prefer to forget. Ignoring her intense gaze, he began plucking the feathers from the carcass.

Before long the large collection of dark purple feathers was secured within a T-shirt to produce a pillow and with a cheeky smile, Abi declared it as her own.

Mackenzie stuffed the bird with Kakadu plums and rubbed the outside with wattle flower-infused oil. “Hey Charlie, you should see what I’m doing with your plums today. Wish you were here, man.”

Abi helped him dig out the earth oven and he placed the bark wrapped bird amongst the hot stones.

“What are you doing with the eggs?” Abi’s wide-eyed expression showed her excitement.

“Well … we could have an omelette for breakfast. Or I could try and bake a cake.”

“A cake! Really, you could do that?”

“It wouldn’t be my best, of course, but I could give it a go.”

Abigail shook her head. “No, I’d rather wait until you can make me your best cake ever.”

He liked that and wished he could show her just how good he was at cooking. The meals he was preparing out here were out of desperation, not culinary perfection. He longed for his restaurant kitchen. “Abi, I know we’ve discussed this a few times, but I really think we need to consider leaving here, searching for a way home.”

“Not this again.” She rolled her eyes. “Spencer always said that people who got lost should stay with their car or, in our case, plane. He said leaving it was a guaranteed way to die.”

“I know what he said, Abi. But how long do we wait? Don’t you think five months is long enough? We’re not going to be rescued.”

“Please don’t spoil our perfect meal.”

“Well, when do you think we’ll have waited long enough?” He waited for her answer. She had a way of shutting down this conversation every time he brought it up.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You want a definite date?”

He nodded, hoping she’d give a real answer this time.

She placed her hands on her hips. “Okay, if we’re still roughing it out with our roast turkey and feather pillows by Christmas then you have my permission to drag my arse anywhere you want.” With a glint in her eyes, she slapped her well-toned bottom and began walking to the plane. But she turned, and when Mackenzie saw the look in her eye, he knew exactly what she was going to say.

Here we go.

“Speaking of Christmas …” She let the sentence hang.

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