True North

Chapter three

"Boom! That's five-three, North! Drop and give me 20!"

"Oh, man! Sammy, you're a machine!"

From outside my window, the shouts of North and our young neighbour echoed. I'd been half-heartedly trying to read, but found my gaze returning again and again to the boys.

North met Sammy on his second day at the guest house and they hit it off, despite the years between them. Every day since, they'd been playing soccer on the back lawn.

At first, North had only managed to stay on his feet for about half an hour, but as his strength returned, they'd started incorporating push ups and sit ups into their morning games. With North's lean figure, the freshly developed muscles were already becoming visible.

Especially when he played shirtless. Under the Saturday morning sun, North glowed as he lowered himself to the grass and began to push up and down. I studied his sinewy back and flat, firm backside, knowing I should look away, but unable to.

"He looks wonderful, don't you think?" My landlady bustled in, bearing my clean washing in a wicker basket.

"I wasn't looking." A burning flush crept over my face as I turned away from the window and back to my book.

Mrs Waters gave me a mischievous stare. "Of course you were, dear. You'd be mad not to. North is a delightful man to talk to, and just as much fun to look at."

"Mrs Waters!"

"Oh, don't give me that, you know it's true."

"Whatever." I stood and tried to move past her.

"Why won't you speak to him?" She blocked my path, in full boss-lady mode. "He's been here a week and you avoid him like a blocked toilet!"

"No, I don't!"

"It won't hurt you to get to know the man, Emily."

"I know that. I'm not ignoring him, I'm just very busy. This place doesn't run itself, you know."

She snorted. "Don't give me that, missy. You're terrified."

Ignoring her, I turned to my washing heap and began dividing my clothes into piles.

"You can't stay isolated forever, Emily." She waved a wrinkled hand at my clothes. "Look at you, your entire wardrobe consists of two pairs of jeans and half a dozen old tee-shirts!"

"I'll have you know, these are all vintage—"

"It simply won't do. I wanted to speak to you about this anyway. You know we have the big Mason wedding at the end of the month?"

"How could I forget?" I muttered, dropping my plain cotton panties in the drawer and slamming it shut.

Jacob Mason, eldest son of the oldest and most historical clan on the mountain, was marrying an heiress from the city. Jamie Patton's family came from media money, and the combination of his historical roots and her extravagant wealth had the Aussie public in a tizz.

Jacob had wanted to keep his wedding local. They were set to tie the knot at the Steavenson falls and had asked Mrs Waters if they could use her expansive grounds as their reception venue. Although there was an outside catering company contracted for the event of 500, I'd been told in no uncertain terms that I was expected to be there to help. Mrs W worried that paparazzi would trample her beloved roses or that random hired wait staff would stomp through the house and defile the bathrooms. I was would be required to run interference.

"Don't use that tone, young lady." Mrs Waters drew herself up, her bright purple blouse swelling in indignation. "You know what this wedding means for this town. Marysville needs this event to rise from the ashes! This could be the real comeback for everybody here, and it rests on the entire country seeing our wonderful community pulling off the nuptials of the year!"