Bush Bashin' Read online

  No sooner had I walked through the door when I found myself flat on my back with a giggling Lizzie perched on my guts smothering my face in kisses.

  “About time you got here, sunshine. I thought I was going to have to send out the trackers to find you.”

  “We took the short cut.” I said dryly, and off to one side I heard the deep chuckle I’d come to associate with Bo. He’d graciously unloaded my stuff and brought it into the house.

  “Oh God, Bo. Tell me you did not take my best friend via Nightmare Gully.” She glared over her shoulder to where Bo was standing next to Brian.

  “I was only seeing what the man was made of. If he’s gonna survive out here he’s gonna face a lot worse things than Nightmare Gully.”

  “What could possibly be worse than what we went through?”

  I asked as I moved Lizzie from her perch and sat up.

  He grinned at me and said seven words to me which had the whole room laughing. Okay, you all know I meant the three other room occupants, beside me. “The Australia Day barbie at Hazeldowns Station.”

  Now me, I only sat there on the floor staring at them and thinking, “What the fuck’s so funny about that?” Guess it was one of those “you had to have been there” moments.

  When they saw the obvious, “I don’t get this” look on my face, Brian calmed down enough to explain how every year the owners of Hazeldowns Station threw a barbie like no other for the surrounding stations. Instead of the normal barbie and booze, Alec and Lester put together something like a mini fair with games and prizes. The kids loved it, and after a few bottles of alcohol most of the adults did too. He also went on to tell me how on the day after there were more than a few people sporting headaches and hangovers. Along with numerous black eyes and split lips. They all assured me I’d have a ball. Lizzie even leant close and whispered I could probably get my rocks off as Lester and Alec had a few gay workers on their property. Knowing there were other gay men around was slightly comforting, but I still worried. Not about all the booze, because I wasn’t really a drinker at all. I only worried about all the local wildlife, but that was a question for another day — one I hoped I never had to personally deal with.

  As the afternoon wore on, Lizzie and Bo took me to the bunkhouse where I’d be living with the rest of the hands. The room was small, but I didn’t have much stuff and I didn’t need much room. There was a double bed; they told me the last cook ended up getting married and they upgraded the bed size then.

  There was a built-in wardrobe, half hanging space and half shelving. Also along one wall and under the window there was a small chest of drawers. The best thing was the bedspread was done in all kinds of purple, which happened to be my favourite colour. I took the colour as a good omen.

  Bo left us when Lizzie dragged me off to the kitchen/dining room where I’d be spending the majority of my day working. I was floored by how well set out the kitchen actually was, with a walk-in freezer and cold room. The pantry was also walk-in and was stocked to bursting. The pots and pans were at the higher end of the great cookware range, and the stove was restaurant sized and had a double oven. I nearly dropped to my knees on the floor and worshiped the damn thing when I saw the stove was gas. For some strange reason I love working with a gas stove.

  There was a dishwasher, but I hated those things. I’d always preferred to clean my stuff by hand. But with twenty-five extra mouths to feed I might soon be changing my mind, especially now that I had no kitchen hands to help me prepare beforehand and clean afterward.

  Lizzie perched her arse on one of the six stools lining the kitchen bench and indicated the urn which took up one corner of the bench by the sink. “We keep the urn full for when the guys duck back home so they can always have hot water on hand. The coffee and tea are in the cupboard above your head along with the mugs.”

  “Are you hinting for me to make you a cup of coffee, my dear?” I asked as she flashed puppy dog eyes in my direction.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her the sad eyes routine made her look like a complete moron. She was my new boss after all; best to play nice to start off, even if she was also my best friend. I grinned as I opened the cupboard and found my favourite brand of coffee. I knew as soon as I walked into the cold room I’d find the chocolate sauce and the chilli powder to go with the drink.

  My friend really did know me, and I loved her for it.

  By the time I’d gotten back to the bench she’d retrieved a box of store-bought biscuits. This was something I was going to have to rectify and have my own on hand as soon as possible. As far as I was concerned, homemade is always better than store bought, because then I knew exactly what went into them.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes at me when I grimaced at the biscuits, “They’re not as good as yours, I know, but you’ll fix the situation soon I daresay.”

  “You know me well.” I chuckled as she poked her tongue in my direction.

  “Stell’ did leave us a whole tin of the homemade stuff, but the guys have since scoffed them, and you know I can’t bake for nuts. Today store bought will have to do.”

  Even though I’d wrinkled my nose at them it didn’t stop me from eating them. Just because I’m a chef doesn’t stop me from eating junk food once in a while. As we gossiped over the coffee my mind was already racing with what I was going to be cooking for my first night as the new cook. Brian had already hinted at what he wanted, and honestly it was what he was going to get, because lasagne was pretty easy and quick to make.

  Lizzie must have seen my mind on overdrive, for she sighed.

  “Okay. I’ll get out of your hair and let you get to work. I’ve let the guys know dinner’s at six thirty sharp.”

  “Hey, Lizzie, tell your husband he’ll get his lasagne tonight.”

  “Oh he’s going to love you.”

  “I’ll have to let him down easy because he’s not really my type,” I couldn’t resist adding which cracked Lizzie up as she left.

  § § §

  By the time dinner was prepared and set out on the dining room sideboards buffet style, I’d had enough time to pull the garlic rolls from the oven and throw them into a couple of huge mixing bowls before the hands came in and stood staring at the food. For a moment I thought I’d fucked up big time until Bo walked over and placed his arm around my shoulders.

  “Hell, Frog. You’re definitely a keeper if this is what we can expect food wise.” He grinned at all the hands. “One of us may have to do a Stell’ and marry you and then you’ll stay.”

  A voice came from the entrance. “Bo, let the cook go, don’t scare the man off before we’ve had time to sample his wares.”

  Looking across the room I saw a slightly grizzled older man edge his way through the throng and pick up a plate. His hair was greying on the edges and his skin looked as if he had spent way too long out in the sun. But strangely he had something about him which made you look a second time. Even with the greying and the grisliness, after taking a second, third, and possibly fourth look at him I thought maybe he wasn’t much older than me.

  “Oh, Ren, I was only funning with him. Frog knows I’m only taking the piss out of him. Besides, Sally would beat the shit outta me if I looked twice at someone who wasn’t her.”

  “Who’s Sally?” I couldn’t help but asking.

  “Sally would be me.” A petite red head stepped forward and Bo promptly dropped his arm from where it rested around my shoulders.

  “Now, hon, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

  Sally rolled her eyes at Bo. “Bo, even I know Frog has better taste than to set his sights on you.”

  “Hey, I’m not that bad.” Bo pouted.

  “But you’re not that good either.” Somebody countered and the room filled with laughter.

  Even I hadn’t been able to stop the laugh from bubbling out of me when Bo turned to Sally and asked, “But you still love me, right babe?”

  She shook her head and said with a straight face, “Yeah, I still love ya. But so
metimes I have to wonder why.”

  Chapter Three

  Taking the piss out of you

  Translation: Teasing you

  Sitting at the table and talking with Lizzie and the others nearby; I couldn’t keep my eyes from straying back toward Ren, who sat quietly at the other end of the table eating his fill. I kept wondering what he thought of my cooking — did he like it, or was he quiet because it tasted gross? I hoped he liked the food; I hoped they all did. Ren was unlike anyone I’d ever known before.

  I wasn’t attracted to him. I wasn’t.

  Yeah right, pull the other one, it plays “Jingle Bells.” The little voice I now associated as my conscience and who sounded a hell of a lot like my ex, David, taunted me from deep within my mind.

  But seriously, I didn’t believe in love at first sight or even lust at first sight. I was one of those men who actually liked to get to know the person before anything remotely like feelings were allowed to come into play. There was just something about the quiet man which had all my sense on overdrive and screaming, “Look at me, for God’s-sake, look at me.” I’d hardly even touched my food by the time Ren had finished. I watched transfixed as he stood, carried his plate to the kitchen, and never returned. My guess was he exited via the kitchen door which lead out toward the laundry room.

  Disappointment filled me when the man didn’t come back, but what was I to expect? The man wasn’t my friend yet. Hell, he didn’t know me from Adam. Maybe in time we could get to be friends but for now I’d have to bide my time and work on him.

  I mentally rolled my eyes. Now I sounded like a fricken stalker. Best to get on with the job I was getting paid to do, not start planning out a life with a man I didn’t even know. Shit! I don’t even know if he’s gay or not. Or if he wants to experiment.

  See, there I went again letting my imagination run away with me.

  My thoughts were brought back to the present when Bo called to me from down the table. “Hey, Frog, did you make any desserts to go with this very fine meal you created?” The hopeful look not only in his eyes but in a few of the other guys’ in the room had me smiling. I stood and walked into the kitchen.

  I didn’t really have time for anything; a quick trifle seemed good and I hoped the dessert would suffice.

  A few of the hands had begun stacking the dishes and carried them to the kitchen as I carried in the huge bowl of dessert.

  When they came back in they were all carrying bowls and spoons.

  Bo’s eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew Lizzie’s would too, because when she and Brian had come to Brisbane for a visit she had fallen in love with my trifle.

  I’d have to remember my cowboys — as I was going to call them all from now on — all had a sweet tooth. Except for Ren, who’d fled the dining hall. I didn’t know whether or not he would be tempted by my desserts.

  One could only hope.

  § § §

  By the time I’d done the dishes and prepared the ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast I was knackered. I think I’d worked harder in one afternoon on this station then I ever had at the restaurant. The best part was here, I got to eat with them and see firsthand what their reactions where to my cooking. Strangely, I felt much better about myself knowing I was doing something right. This was a feeling I’d been trying to find again for the last six months. My life had almost been in some kind of state of denial. Telling myself everything was okay when everything really wasn’t.

  I made myself one last cup of green tea to take with me as I closed up the kitchen and made my way back to the bunkhouse.

  Green tea had always had a calming effect on me, and I wanted it to help me sleep. As tired as I was I couldn’t help thinking, who the hell would have ever thought Jeremiah Haines, head chef at the Golden Crown Restaurant, would one day be living in a bunkhouse with twenty five other men and women? If someone would’ve asked me two months ago if I’d leave my city life I’d have laughed in their faces and told them they were off their rockers. Yet here I was, now on January second, heading off to my new room.

  The bunkhouse was dark by the time I got inside, but someone had been thoughtful enough to leave a light on for me so I could see where I was going, and not run into things. I might have to invest in a torch of some kind, ’cause what if a croc had been waiting out there in the dark for me? A cold shiver ran down my spine at the thought.

  “All done for the night, I see.” The quiet voice coming out of the darkened living room scared the shit out of me. When I jumped in fright, my tea spilled over the edges of the mug burning my hand in the process which caused me to drop the offending mug.

  “Dammit!” I cursed as I cradled my burning hand. “I’m such a fucking klutz.” I grumbled as the figure in the dark stepped forward, and I focused on Ren watching me with worried eyes.

  He took a hold of my elbow and led me to the bathroom. Once there he turned on the cold water and pushed my hand into the flow. The coolness against the heat of my hand felt good.

  “I’ll go clean up the spill.” He gestured back out into the darkened room. “Stay here until your hand feels better.” Ren added before he left and I found myself standing all alone.

  “Way to go, Jeremiah. Great first impression,” I said in a combination of annoyance and embarrassment to my reflection in the mirror above the sink. If Ren hadn’t already thought me a complete and utter loser before, the little display in the living room would have only confirmed I was.

  When my injured hand cooled and my skin didn’t feel like it was burning off, I turned off the tap and made my way back into the living room. There was a lamp on in there now and Ren was bent over some sort of container. As I got closer I saw he was going through the first aid supplies and reading the labels. He gestured for me to sit beside him and I did.

  “It looks a lot worse than it really is.” I tried to explain as he gently took my hand in his and examined it closely.

  “It’s better to be safe than sorry. Why don’t you have a shower and then I’ll put some burn cream onto your hand before we go to bed.” The telltale signs of a blush marred his tanned skin, as if he’d realised what he’d said — and to a gay man no less.

  Was it wrong of me that I cheekily replied? “That, sir, is the best offer I’ve had in months. Your room or mine?” Before he could react I stood and headed to my room to grab my towel and boxer shorts.

  I left him sitting there, open-mouthed and dumbfounded. I really would have apologised to him, but seeing the shocked look on his face right then and there was priceless.

  Showered and dressed, I took my towel back to my room to hang on the back of the door and found Ren sitting on the edge of my bed. I almost swallowed my tongue in want, and then when I saw he had the tube of burn cream in his hand I got myself under control. This wasn’t the erotic interlude my mind had quickly conjured up. Damn!

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered as soon I sat beside him on the bed, and moving until I was actually facing him. “I mean, for what I said out there. I know you’re only trying to help me, and here I am taking the piss out of you.” I winced as he gently rubbed the cream into my still throbbing and reddened hand.

  Ren didn’t say anything for the longest time and I thought maybe, just maybe, I’d fucked up our friendship. I mean before we’d even had a chance to get to know each other, and he found out what a real dork I am.

  “Maybe you should slow the bus down and think before your mouth engages.” He stated quietly.

  “Huh?” What the hell did he say? I know he was speaking English, and I know I was listening, but for the life of me I didn’t have a clue as to what he was telling me. Was he telling me slow down and we’ll see where this takes us? Or was he telling me to think about what I’m saying and my mouth wouldn’t get the rest of me into trouble?

  Ren grinned. “I meant, maybe if you thought before you talked, you wouldn’t find yourself in hot water and needing to apologise all the time.”

  Wait, how the hell did Ren know
this much about me, seeing we had only met for the first time when I spilled the damn tea?

  Am I that transparent everyone can see right into my inner workings and thoughts? Or is Ren some kind of freak who could read minds?

  Wait, what did he say?

  Should I even be thinking right now or blocking my mind of all thoughts? This was bloody confusing. I smiled and nodded and pretended I knew what he was talking about. All the while, I was saying my times tables inside my head in case my freak mind reading theory was actually true.

  The palm of the hand Ren was still holding and rubbing cream on was starting to sweat and I didn’t want to be rude and yank my hand away to wipe away the perspiration. Just when I was getting to the complete freak-out stage on what to do he suddenly let go.

  I sighed in relief while feeling bitterly disappointed. Talk about crossed emotions. My body and mind couldn’t decide which way they wanted to feel.

  Disappointment won out as Ren left my room and closed the door gently behind him. I set my alarm for the arse-crack of dawn and lay upon the covers. Even with the windows wide open the night was still as hot as hell. Thank God the windows had screens or the mozzies and other bugs would’ve eaten me alive.

  § § §

  I woke before the sun had even started to rise, and was surprised to find Brian, Ren, Bo, and one of the other hands — for the life of me I couldn’t remember her name — standing around the back door of the kitchen area.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked as I approached them.

  “There was a croc in the yard again.” Brian yawned. “We have it penned in the laundry room so don’t go in there. Lizzie’s calling in the wildlife rangers to come and retrieve it. Luckily it was a baby, only five feet long.”