Chapter 7
Mackenzie
I flashed my tits at my new boss.
Wouldn’t have thought there was something more horrifying than seeing a spider as big as my head running across the wall, but apparently I was able to top even that.
My mouth tightened, the jaw muscle twitching as I paused part way through setting the table.
It was then I used some of the strategies my therapist taught me.
Name the emotion rather than engage in secondary thoughts about what happened.
Shame, that was the first feeling, then followed by horror and embarrassment.
I recited the words over and over, creating a space to feel them as I completed the task, but right as I was beginning to self-regulate, the front door slammed open.
“Dinner!” Billy cried, rubbing his hands together. “I could eat the crotch out of a low flying duck.”
“Not before you’ve cleaned up!” Charlie called out from the kitchen.
No burritos today. Instead, we were having roast lamb, and the smells were incredible.
“In a sec.” Billy approached the table, then looked me up and down. “You’re still in one piece, Macca. That’s better than I expected.” He bent his head to peer at me. “No injuries hidden behind those jeans?”
“I…”
His blue eyes were a similar colour to Troy’s, which had my words dying in my throat. Troy’s didn’t crinkle at the corners as he smiled, though. Instead the man had looked like he’d been smacked across the face with a wet fish.
No, something worse.
“Apart from having to fend off the advances of a very friendly spider, I’m fine,” I said.
“Brucey?” Bronson appeared beside Billy. “He won’t hurt you.”
“So people keep telling me.” I put the last fork down. “But I’m not convinced. At the very least he’s going to give me a heart attack if he keeps jump scaring me from behind the door.”
“Soo…” Bronson looked at his brother, the two men looking a little uncomfortable. “That room is his turf. Put him outside and he’s just gonna come back again.”
My hands gripped the edge of the table.
“Then I need to leave him to it. There’s room down in the bunk room where you sleep?”
“Yeah, there is.”
Billy’s smile spread slowly.
“I’ll move my stuff down there after dinner. Don’t want to encroach on a monster spider’s turf.”
“No, you won’t.” That gruff voice, I didn’t need to look up to know who was speaking. “You take one look at the cesspool they call a bathroom and you’ll change your mind. Come running back to the main house real quick.”
My hands went to my hips, and for some reason Troy watched my every move.
“Bleach gets rid of the worst shit stains,” I replied. “Unless you’re going to squash your pet house spider with those big boots of yours, I’ll happily supervise the boys as they clean their bathroom.”
“Now, Macca…” Billy spluttered.
“There’s other rooms—” Charlie started to say.
“I’ll ‘persuade’ Bruce to relocate as many times as you need.” Troy’s eyes bore into mine.
My cheeks flushed as I realised we had an audience. All of the Drysdale family was standing around the table, a strange man having joined them.
“Jock MacDonald,” the man said, offering me his hands. “But they just call me—”
“Scotty!” Billy said. “Macca, Scotty. Scotty, Macca.”
“Nice to meet you, Macca,” he said.
“It’s Mackenzie.” Charlie set down a platter with a crackling roast at the head of the table. “You two, make yourselves useful and grab the vegetables and bread. Troy?”
She handed him a carving knife and fork and he moved into place, slicing into the meat.
“How come I never get to do the carving?” Billy asked, returning with hot trays filled with vegetables.
“Because a roast isn’t a tree you just hack into,” Troy rumbled, still intent on the job.
“Remember the mess Billy made when Troy was away at that conference?” Bronson chuckled.
“Shut up…” Billy growled.
“I try not to.” Charlie shuddered. “Troy carves because we didn’t spend hours slaving in a kitchen just for you to butcher the bloody roast. Now.” She regarded the table, then nodded. “Let’s eat.”
“Mmph…!”
My hand slapped over my mouth as I made an involuntary sound of pleasure at the first bite of the meat.
“Everything OK over there, Mackenzie?” Charlie asked.
“That’s…” I swallowed hurriedly. “That’s amazing!”
“You now know the way to my sister’s heart,” Bronson said, elbowing Charlie.
“Probably because no one else here compliments my cooking.”
“You’re an amazing cook.” Billy laid his head on Charlie’s shoulder. “So, so good.”
“Wait for it,” she said to me.
“Especially when you make Mum’s lamington cake.”
“There it is.” She shook her head and turned back to her plate. “You have to watch my brothers. They’ll do anything for sweets.”
“Got any yummy American recipes to share?” Billy asked me with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Twinkies maybe?”
“Twinkies…” I gagged theatrically. “If that’s what you think is fine dining in the States, have I got news for you. Apple pie, peach cobbler.” I ticked each one of my fingers off. “Key lime pie and pumpkin pie.”
“Oh my God, I’ll take one of each,” Bronson groaned.
“So you can come out with us tomorrow,” Billy said. “See the farm, do enough work to keep him happy.” A pointed look was shot Troy’s way. “Then we’ll take you to the supermarket for supplies.”
“Mackenzie will come feed the cattle with me in the morning.” All the banter died down as Troy surveyed the table, his eyes finally coming to rest on me. “Can’t get these pricks out of bed early enough, so you can—”
“Sure,” I said, then smiled. “Not like I haven’t tossed hay out of a pickup before. What time do I need to be ready by?”
“I leave at 5am.”
Wincing, I turned back to my plate, then sliced into the meat.
“Then I better get to sleep early.”
The air was filled with the sounds of cutlery scraping across plates, of mumbled requests for dishes to be handed down the table, until finally the meal was finished. Scotty, Bronson, and Billy were on dish duty, water splashing and good natured joking filtering through.
“Well, I should head to bed,” I said with a yawn. “Thanks for dinner, Charlie.”
“You did at least half the work,” she replied. “But sleep well.”
When Troy shoved himself to his feet, I thought he was acting like a male lead in a period drama, standing for a lady. Instead, he followed me down the hall.
“Ahh… heading to bed as well?” I asked, a little alarmed by the large man’s presence.
“After I’ve checked if Bruce has stayed outside.”
A man of few words, he didn’t ask permission to walk into my room. Just opened the door and looked around. So I may have hung back a bit, because a big strong man had his uses. A cursory look at the walls, he approached my bed, flicking the covers back.
“Um…?” I said, not sure what the hell he was doing.
“Sometimes spiders like to hide between the sheets.”
My eyes closed, hand shaking as I pressed it to my forehead.
“You mean I have to check my bedding for arachnids every night?”
He nodded. “Boots as well, and gloves. Basically, anywhere small and dark—”
“I want to go home.” That came out a little more impassioned than I meant it to.
Voice wavering, it felt like now that homesickness hit me hard.
“I thought I could handle the spider thing, but I can’t.
I can’t, Troy. Big spiders belong out in the wilds, eating bugs and stuff, not inside your house.
Those hairy legs… All those eyes… The way they skitter…
” A whole body shiver passed through me. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” When I opened my eyes, he was standing in front of me.
A hand moved, and he watched it like it was someone else’s, until it landed on my shoulder.
The warm weight, the firm squeeze, it helped settle me.
“What do the Americans say on the TV? Momma didn’t raise no quitter? You’re no quitter, Mackenzie.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but right then, I wanted to clasp at his hand like the lifeline it felt like it was. He pulled away in the next moment, heading for the door.
“Get some sleep,” he said. “And if anything of the eight legged variety sneaks into your room, you just yell out and I’ll come running.” His brows creased slightly. “Or two legged.”
“Yes, sir.”
I performed a mocking little salute, trying to fake being cool about this situation until I could make it. Troy didn’t smile. A light flared to life in those blue eyes, one that had him staring at me fixedly.
“Don’t call me that.”
Sensing a sore spot, I couldn’t help but poke at it.
“Oh, so what do you prefer? Sheet inspector? Spider handler?”
“Pretty sure you don’t want to find out what I’m thinking, Mackenzie.”
The door clicked shut behind him, stopping me in my tracks. Heart pounding, muscles quivering with a strange energy, adrenaline had me ready to run.
But was that out of the room and across the hall, or away from it?
So, I might’ve flashed my boss, but I had a feeling that was just the opening act.
And I didn’t know how I felt about that.