A Bush Christmas by Margareta Osborn

hell-for-leather towards Burdekin’s Gap. He almost put the bike into a non-recoverable slide when he saw her sitting in the ute.
    His first words to Jaime weren’t the most pleasant. ‘Where in the hell have you been?’
    Not a good start to the rescue operation, that’s for sure.
    â€˜Burdekin’s Gap.’ She figured she only needed to tell him the bare essentials.
    â€˜I was worried out of my head when I didn’t see any lights on up at the big house. You been with Ryan?’
    Well, that was a loaded question.
    â€˜Yes and no.’
    â€˜Yes you have or no you haven’t?’
    â€˜Yes, I’ve been helping Ryan in the shop. No, I haven’t been in his bed, if that’s what you’re asking. But what that has to do with you anyway I have no idea.’
    Stirling seemed to suck in a breath and then stared intently up at the sky. He stayed that way for so long she looked up too just to check she wasn’t missing anything. Nope. The Milky Way was right where it should be.
    Finally the man spoke. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. It is none of my business.’
    And now, even though he’d apologised for the first time since she’d known him, Jaime felt disgruntled. It was like deep down she wanted it to be his business.
    Stirling had moved on to more immediate matters. ‘What’s wrong with the ute?’
    â€˜I don’t know. It rattled, blew a lot of smoke, bunny hopped and then stopped.’
    Stirling did his brow-meets-the-rest-of-his face trick. ‘Sounds like it could be a problem with the fuel. Did you put unleaded in it back at the Gap? Maybe the last load of fuel Ryan got was dirty. Or was it from the bottom of the tank?’
    Jaime was still back on the word unleaded. She could feel her toes curling in her Colorados. Her voice, when it came, was closer to a whisper. ‘Did you say unleaded, as in unleaded petrol ?’
    â€˜Yes. The Suzuki takes unleaded–’ He stopped. ‘Oh, you didn’t, did you? Tell me you didn’t put diesel in the ute.’
    Jaime felt sick. ‘I put diesel in the ute.’
    â€˜ Shit!’
    â€˜I’m so sorry, Stirling. I thought being a ute, and a farm one at that, it would take diesel. It just made sense! My dad’s ute did!’
    â€˜Well this isn’t your dad’s ute, Princess. This is Valerie’s.’
    Oh yes, his precious Valerie.
    â€˜Look, I said I’m sorry. What can we do? I’ll pay to get it fixed.’ Jaime took in Stirling’s foreboding frown. ‘It can be fixed, can’t it?’
    She glanced upwards towards the stars again and sent up a little prayer. Dad, help me here!
    Stirling expelled such a long drawn out sigh she nearly felt sorry for the man. Nearly, but not quite. She had thought she was doing the right thing, damn it.
    â€˜I’ll bring the tri-axle trailer down in the morning and load it up. It’ll have to go to Lake Grace. The boys in the shop there will drain it.’ The man cast an assessing gaze towards the ute.
    Jaime stood there mute. Man, he must hate a city chick like her turning up to disrupt his nice comfortable life.
    â€˜Go on, get on the bike,’ he said before moving towards the vehicle. ‘I’ll just lock the thing up.’
    She walked over and stood by the V-Max, waiting for him. When he arrived back at her side, he silently handed her his helmet.
    â€˜I can’t–’ She stopped. The look on his face was enough. ‘Okay, maybe I can.’ She pulled the thing over her head and waited for a bareheaded Stirling to mount up. Got on behind him. She was surprised how she was getting used to this whole bike-riding thing. Mind you, it still wasn’t her favourite way to get around, but it was growing on her.
    A bit like the man she was now sitting hard up against …
    She wasn’t going to think about that.
    In no time they were slowing down again and the