Page 20 of A Chance to Believe

Dragging himself away, he went out through the glass door in the corridor straight across to the covered deck area. Netting covered the table with the salads, so Parker had been busy once he’d cleared up after lunch. The man had been a lifesaver since arriving at Maidens Hill not long after Brittany’s death. His mother had barely functioned at the time and meals were scratch affairs, preparation shared between his father and himself, aided by Jim with his vegetable patch. In those first months, Ben was still back and forth to hospital and in rehab in the city and when he was home, he was still struggling to walk.

Things had been better once Parker took over the household reins. He’d encouraged Dawn Smith to take up her art again, something her family had been unable to do. That had led to the renovation and while she still struggled emotionally, she had emerged a fully competent member of society. He sighed and then steadied his breathing. Cassie had to know these things if she was to be a part of the family, even at the distance of parent to his children. He hadn’t expected it to bring back all the memories. If anyone asked, he would have said he was over it, but maybe he’d been hiding from some things. Why else would revisiting the past still affect him?

‘Hey, Dad. Are you going to stand and stare at the potato salad all night?’

He forced a smile for his daughter. ‘Just checking everything is there.’

‘Parker would be insulted if he heard you say that.’

‘I better get on with my job before he comes back.’

She danced off to plug her phone into the music system and the latest pop music blared from the speakers.

‘Hey, not so loud.’

The sound reduced a tiny amount, and he grinned.

The barbeque was already lit, and he lifted the sheet of alfoil covering the meat on the large tray beside it. The guests would be here soon, and he needed to put his dad hat on and help make the afternoon a success. Kimberley had to be his priority. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t pursue something for himself. He smiled at the burgers. It was good to have something to believe in. A future beyond the day-to-day life of running the farm and worrying about his daughter.

Chapter 5

Cassie looked back over her first few weeks at Maidens Hill with a kind of awe. The days had drifted into each other, each one much like the other. She hadn’t seen Shayne again on the evening of Kimberley’s party. Parker had brought her in a tray with steak and salad at one point. The music had been doused shortly after 8pm, due to it being a school day on the Monday.

She’d slept a lot that first week, her body telling her she’d been pushing herself too much in the lead up to coming to confront Shayne. Packing up her house and putting things into storage had taken its toll, even though the heavy work had been done by the packers. It wasn’t only the decisions she’d had to make, but the resurgence of memories she’d put into her own cold storage years ago, now reignited by having to handle the small items that represented those memories.

There’d been enough stress underlying it all before she added the upcoming meeting and while she was still anxious, Shayne’s positive reception had eased most of it. His mother, she wasn’t sure about. They’d had Sunday lunch again the previous week and the in-between week the men and Kimberley had gone into their parents’ place for a social dinner with family friends on the Saturday.

Cassie had cried off on the grounds of still being too tired to go out at night and Shayne had accepted that. But not until he’d been reassured there was nothing wrong. The tiredness had been genuine enough. She was always tired. But she hadn’t felt up to being sociable with strangers, even with Shayne in support mode. The weeks of rest had made a difference, being pampered by Parker and free of any obligations apart from those implied by being a guest. She hated to admit it, but Shayne had been right. She’d needed a holiday.

Now it was exactly four weeks since she arrived, and she sensed Shayne was getting restless and frustrated. A series of problems had kept him busy, including one of his senior men being off work with a broken collarbone after a fall from a motorbike. Rain had delayed the shearing of his goats, putting out the schedule.

Cassie hadn’t been bored. Even after she was feeling more energetic. In her explorations with Shayne, they’d found a music room. Set up with a desk and a multitude of chairs, there was a magnificent old grand piano and a tall harp that had been shipped out from England by one of those well-heeled brides. Shayne had told her to go ahead and use the piano or any of the smaller instruments or music scores stored in the cabinets.

‘They’re better off used and we pay for someone to come out once a year to maintain them.’ He’d smiled. ‘This way I’ll feel like I’m getting my money’s worth.’

When she’d hesitated, he’d told her that Ben and his sisters had used them in the past. ‘This isn’t a museum. It’s a living breathing house, all of it is made to be used.’

She’d taken advantage of his offer and it was a real pleasure to be able to keep up her practice. She’d sold her own piano once she’d decided to give up teaching. It had been a good instrument, but a work horse.

One advantage to his regular absences was that she’d got to know Kimberley better. At least a couple of nights a week, they were on their own for the evening meal, with the men busy outside. While the girl still appeared to view Cassie with suspicion, she would often forget her animosity in her enthusiasm for her horsemanship and curiosity about Cassie. She believed there was a connection to the modelling world in Cassie’s past. Unless it was meeting Shayne at the fashion show that confused the issue. That series of fashion events had been a one off. She was more used to corporate work and conferences.

Cassie was quite happy to talk about the world of fashion if Kimberley wanted to chat. What woman didn’t like clothes in some form or another? The girl had the right shape and height if she were interested in doing some modelling work to fund her way through university. Not that it was likely to be a problem. Her father would have it covered.

The girl had even invited her to come out and watch her practice barrel racing. She’d asked if Cassie rode and, after her initial negative, maintained a lofty condescension while explaining the ‘what’ and ‘how’ of barrel racing and rodeo. Cassie had sat back and enjoyed watching the girl’s enthusiasm, envying her energy.

Now, making her way to the fenced in training yard beyond the stables, Cassie wasn’t sure if it was a sensible way to spend her Saturday morning. Except to help build a relationship with Kimberley. If the girl could accept her, it would make things easier in the future, whatever happened.

The yard itself was timber, the top rail a fraction below shoulder height. Cassie rested her forearms on it and scrutinised the ring. It was larger than she expected, close to rodeo size, and the timber wasn’t very old. Not new, but not like the smaller corral she’d explored on the other side of the stables that looked like Shayne’s great-great-grandfather might have built it, held together with wire and not much else.

The barrels were placed ready in the arena and over near the chute leading to the stable yard Shayne, wearing his battered Akubra on his head, was adjusting the straps on a neat bay quarter horse gelding.

Kimberley was already mounted, wearing a helmet, and watching her father closely.

As Cassie watched, he stepped back, and Kimberley set the bay at a slow trot around the course. He was a beautiful animal, his dark coat glossy in the sun, his mane and tail gleaming black.

Intent on watching the action, she failed to notice Shayne approaching until he was only a few paces away on the other side of the fence.

‘Enjoying the weather?’

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