Barbara Hannay - The Cattleman's Special Delivery

It would help if her boss wasn’t such a cranky tight-fist. Privately, Jess called him The Cell Warder—even the menus he chose were as unimaginative as prison food. But at least this café was in walking distance of her flat, and working on Cairns’s seafront gave her occasional glimpses of palm trees and sparkling water. More importantly, the daytime working hours left her with afternoons and evenings free.

She needed to be with Rosie in the evenings. It was horrendously expensive having to put her into day-care for four days a week, but she couldn’t bear to hand her over to strangers at night.

Flipping pancakes, she promised herself she’d go to extra trouble with her own dinner tonight.

Reece was frowning as he knocked on the door of flat No 4a. The frown was partly because he was unexpectedly nervous about seeing Jess again, but also because he didn’t like the idea of her living in this shabby, almost squalid building with peeling paint and rusted down-pipes and rubbish bins littering the footpath.

His spirits sank lower when no one answered his knock.

A neighbour leaned out of a grimy window to stare at him. He walked over to her. ‘I’m looking for Jess Cassidy.’

The young woman blew cigarette smoke. ‘She’s at work.’

‘Where does she work?’

‘No idea.’ She narrowed her eyes at Reece, showing her distrust of him and making it patently clear that she wouldn’t tell him even if she knew. ‘She’s gone most weekdays, though.’

‘Thank you,’ he said with excessive politeness, but as he walked away his worries about Jess multiplied.

Why was she working nearly every day? And where was Rosie? When Jess had written that she was ‘managing OK’, he’d wondered if perhaps she had to be frugal, but he’d still pictured her at home with her baby, living comfortably, if carefully, on her husband’s insurance money.

Of course, Jess’s living conditions were none of his business. Truth was, he hardly knew Jess Cassidy, and yet he’d been present at an intensely personal, pivotal moment in her life. They’d been through an emotionally charged ordeal together, and when Rosie was born they’d shared an exhilarating triumph. He’d felt connected.

Four months later, he still felt connected. It was a big deal for a man with precious few connections.

When he came back at six-thirty he saw, to his relief, that a light was on in Jess’s flat. He could hear music playing a soothing, bluesy tune, and tempting cooking aromas wafted through an open window.

The tension inside him loosened a notch. Seemed Jess was all right, after all.

When he knocked, the door opened slowly and Jess stood before him with Rosie balanced on her hip. He was conscious of her slim, pale arms wrapped around the baby. She was wearing faded jeans and a soft pink T-shirt, and her dark hair was twisted into a loose knot. She was definitely thinner than before and she looked tired. On the other hand, her daughter looked plump and thriving.

At first, Jess’s expression was guarded, almost defensive, but then she recognised him and her mouth formed an O of surprise.

‘Hello, Jess.’

Rosie cooed at him and Jess smiled cautiously.

‘I was in town,’ Reece explained. ‘I had to bring my father to the hospital for tests. He’s being kept in overnight and I thought I’d drop by, to say hello.’

‘It good to see you.’ Jess hitched the baby a little higher. ‘I hope your dad’s going to be all right.’

‘Thanks. It’s hard to say at this stage.’ Reece was holding a bunch of flowers wrapped in lavender tissue, but he felt suddenly uncertain about the appropriateness of bringing flowers. They had looked so bright and appealing, sitting in a bucket on the footpath, but now he wondered if Jess would think he was trying to be romantic.

‘Rosie looks well,’ he said, proffering, instead, the brightly wrapped gift he’d bought for the baby. ‘I thought she might like this.’

‘Reece, you’ve already been so kind.’ With an embarrassed, almost wincing smile, Jess stepped back. ‘You’d better come in.’

It wasn’t the most welcoming invitation, but he went in, anyway. The flat was small and simply furnished with a tiny, rudimentary kitchen, a small table, two chairs and a single blue sofa. A door led to what he assumed was a bedroom. Everything was very clean.

‘Take a seat.’ Jess pointed to the sofa.

Uncertain what to do with the flowers, Reece set them on the table and sat at one end of the couch while Jess sat at the other end with Rosie, balancing the baby and the gift in her lap.

‘Look what Reece has brought for you,’ she said in a deliberately cheery voice, and the baby’s hands swiped and patted at the wrapping paper as Jess peeled it away.

‘Oh, wow!’ she exclaimed as the brightly coloured toy was revealed.

‘I’m told it’s a chime garden,’ Reece said and almost immediately Rosie banged a bright purple flower and was rewarded by a few tinkling bars of a nursery rhyme.

The baby grinned, and banged another flower, releasing more music, and Jess’s face broke into a lovely smile. ‘How clever. It’s absolutely gorgeous, Reece. And the perfect toy for her age.’

Her green eyes sparkled—yes, her eyes were definitely green—and Reece realised that this was why he’d come: to reassure himself that she hadn’t forgotten how to smile. She looked so heart-stoppingly pretty when her eyes lit up.

There was an awkward silence as they sat a metre apart and watched Rosie play with her new toy.

‘How have you been, Jess?’

‘Fine, thanks.’ She tweaked a curl on her baby’s head. ‘Honestly. I hope you haven’t been worrying about me.’

‘No, not at all.’

Another awkward silence.

‘Where are you staying?’ Jess asked. ‘Do you have friends in Cairns?’

‘Not really. I’m booked into a pub down on the waterfront.’

‘Nice.’

‘Yes, it’s fine. Close to the hospital.’

Rosie grabbed at her mother’s nose and squealed with glee. Jess laughed, and then, suddenly, she asked, ‘Would you like to stay for dinner?’

‘No, no. I just dropped in for a quick hello. I don’t want to impose on you.’

‘I’ve made a chicken casserole.’ Before he could answer, she hurried on. ‘You must allow me to feed you, Reece, after everything you’ve done for me.’

He remembered her letters. I owe you so much. One day, I promise I’ll repay you .

‘Your cooking certainly smells very good,’ he said.

‘That’s settled, then. It’s all ready.’ Jess smiled again and then she stood and set the baby down on a rug on the floor, putting the chime garden beside her, as well as the teddy bear he’d sent and a rattle. But as soon as she was down Rosie complained, waving her arms and throwing herself down and crying.

Jess sighed. ‘I’m afraid she’s always super grizzly and needy at this time of day.’

‘Would she let me hold her?’

‘I’m sure she’d love it. I’ll check the dinner.’ As Jess headed for the stove her pink mouth tilted into yet another smile.

Reece swallowed nervously as he looked down at the small, angry infant. His offer to pick her up had felt like the right thing to do, but now he was somewhat in awe of this writhing, small creature. He knew zilch about babies. He guessed they were probably like dogs, able to sense a person’s fear. Sure enough, when he picked Rosie up, she stiffened as she stared at him.

At the same moment, a knock sounded on the door.

‘Gosh,’ Jess exclaimed as she set the hot casserole dish on a cane mat. ‘I hardly ever have visitors, and now I have two in one night.’

What lousy timing , she thought as she slipped off the oven gloves. Now that she’d recovered from the shock of finding Reece on her doorstep, she’d even managed to shove aside the awkwardness she’d felt remembering her labour and everything poor Reece had been exposed to that night. With those thoughts carefully blocked, she was actually looking forward to sharing her dinner with him.