Between the Vines by Tricia Stringer

She hadn’t left a message. What would she say? ‘You said come back so here I am’ or ‘Hi, just passing through Penola, thought I’d call in’.
    Peter already knew that wasn’t true. He could have even rung Ed, warned him that she was here and that she was going to ring. Perhaps that was why Ed hadn’t answered. She shook her head and berated herself. Already she was doing a good job of smothering the hopeful feeling. She looked back at the view. No negativity. Instead she pictured Ed’s brother, so different in looks and personality than Ed and yet she liked him. He was kind, that was obvious from his offer of a place to stay, and he had the most beautiful eyes. They were the same colour as Ed’s, blue, but they had a different hue. Ed’s were darker. Pete’s were clear light blue with a look that made you want to fall into his arms. She shook herself. Not that she was going to. Ed was the reason she was here.
    Once more she looked at her phone.
    She gritted her teeth and pushed out of the chair. It was all very well to sit drinking coffee in the sunshine but what was she going to do next? Did she stay another day? If she didn’t where would shego? Not back to Adelaide. She’d have to admit to Cass that she’d stuffed up. She’d already sent her friend a text last night saying she’d arrived safely and all was well.
    â€œNo going back, Taylor,” she muttered.
    She rinsed her cup and straightened the kitchen chair she’d sat on to eat her meal last night. In the bedroom she pulled up the sheet on the bed then sat on it. Now what? She’d showered last night and her towel still hung over the door. She plucked it down and set off along the passage. Maybe another shower would help her to think.
    Pete dashed back to his cottage. It was nearly time to open the cellar door. He wanted to grab a bite to eat and change his shirt. He jammed some cheese and tomato between two pieces of bread and went in search of his cellar door shirt.
    His day had gone relatively well so far considering the start he’d had. The tanker had been a bit late but the process had gone smoothly. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to man the cellar door and juggle the rest of his jobs but he was hoping Noelene wouldn’t be too long.
    There was no work shirt in his wardrobe, so he rummaged in the laundry basket. He had three of them, usually he kept one over at the cellar door but it hadn’t been there. He’d just have to wear a different shirt. What did it matter? Ed was the one who’d decided they needed the shirts. Pete tugged his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. Then he remembered he’d done the washing a couple of days ago. His shirts would be on the line. He stepped out his back door and stopped. He’d completely forgotten about Taylor. Her van was still parked at the front of the quarters.
    He plucked a shirt from the line. It was a bit creased but it would do.
    â€œHello.”
    He turned at the sound of her voice. She’d come from the track that led out to the road.
    â€œMorning,” he said and slipped his arms into his shirt.
    She came to a stop just beyond the crumbling fence that marked the edge of his yard. He couldn’t see her eyes but she was smiling at him from under a broad straw hat. It was one of the assorted leftovers from the quarters.
    â€œI’ve been for a walk but it’s getting quite hot.”
    â€œSorry, I haven’t had time to call in.” Pete couldn’t believe he’d forgotten all about her. “Are you getting on all right?”
    â€œFine.”
    He fumbled with his buttons. “Any plans for the day?”
    A small frown wiped away her smile. “Not really.”
    â€œWould you like to help out at the cellar door for a while?”
    She looked at him. Her frown deepened. Why had he asked? She was just here for Ed.
    â€œI don’t know anything