Mr Right Now Read online

  Karly Lane lives on the mid north coast of New South Wales. Proud mum to four children and wife of one very patient mechanic, she is lucky enough to spend her day doing the two things she loves most—being a mum and writing stories set in beautiful rural Australia.

  Also by Karly Lane

  North Star

  Morgan’s Law

  Bridie’s Choice

  Poppy’s Dilemma

  Gemma’s Bluff

  Tallowood Bound

  Second Chance Town

  Third Time Lucky

  If Wishes Were Horses

  Six Ways to Sunday

  Someone Like You

  The Wrong Callahan

  First published in 2019

  Copyright © Karly Lane 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

  Allen & Unwin

  83 Alexander Street

  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.allenandunwin.com

  ISBN 978 1 76063 266 3

  eISBN 978 1 76087 114 7

  Set by Bookhouse, Sydney

  Cover design: Romina Panetta Edwards

  Cover photographs: Getty Images and iStock

  For all our farmers, big and small, who put food on our table three times a day! Thank you.

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  One

  Griffin Callahan climbed down from the tractor and swore as he stared at the tyres submerged in the soft soil. Great. This was all he needed. He closed his eyes for a minute, giving in to the frustration he’d been fighting off all morning.

  After a dry spell, the rains had finally arrived, filling the dams and the tanks and nourishing the pasture to feed weary livestock. The only problem was, once the rain had started, it hadn’t known when to stop.

  The weather had delayed seeding and Griff was eager to get moving. He’d walked the paddock yesterday and thought it had dried out enough to risk it. He’d been working steadily most of the morning but then his luck had given out and the tractor had run into a boggy spot.

  Griff swore again and climbed back into the cabin to radio for his dad to bring out the other tractor as a tow. He seriously didn’t need this right now. They were already behind schedule. He wanted to take advantage of the rain and plant some oats as feed for the cattle, and there was spraying to do before the next lot of wheat and canola could go in.

  He knew there was nothing he could do to control the weather, of course—being at the mercy of the elements came with the territory of being a farmer—but sometimes he hated the uncertainty of this life. He tried to imagine a job where he went to work and everything ran smoothly, where he didn’t have to worry about whether there was rain or no rain, he just did his job, got paid and went home. He couldn’t picture it. It seemed too far from the realm of his reality.

  He took a photo and posted it on Instagram, adding one or two descriptive hashtags about his predicament, then sat back in the cabin to wait for help to arrive. If nothing else, at least his mates would have a brief moment of enjoyment and a few would sympathise. Misery loves company.

  It was peaceful again now that the engine was off. He rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. The lonely call of a crow echoed across the wide-open land that stretched out all around him. In the distance a cow called for her calf and reminded him that they’d soon be needing to drench, mark and ear-tag again. There was always something to do. It wasn’t that he didn’t like this work; far from it, it was what he’d always wanted to do. Farming was in his blood, as it was in his dad’s and his dad’s before him. But recently a restlessness had grown in him—for what he wasn’t sure, but he knew he needed a change of some sort in his life.

  He’d thought that change had been the arrival of Cash Sullivan to their sleepy little town last year. She was like nothing the place had ever seen before—sexy, rebellious, a mystery woman. He’d wanted Cash—wanted that taste of something different, to be more than good old dependable Griffin. He’d wanted to be like his older brother, Linc.

  Linc was the family hero, the commando who’d spent his adult life defending the country and fighting wars. Linc had come home last Christmas and stolen Cash Sullivan right from under Griff’s nose.

  If he was honest about it, though, Griff had known deep down that he and Cash were never going to be a thing. She’d tried to tell him that, but he’d been blinded by hurt pride and mixed up by this uncharacteristic restlessness that had taken hold of him. So when he’d walked in and discovered Cash in Linc’s arms on New Year’s Eve, at his little sister’s wedding no less, the growing resentment he’d been harbouring towards his brother had sent Griff into a blind rage. What he hadn’t been aware of was his brother’s own internal struggles. Griff’s anger had unleashed a furious violence in Linc that had seen him beat Griffin into unconsciousness.

  Ending up in hospital hadn’t been the ideal way to spend the first day of a new year—neither had watching his whole family implode. Griff hadn’t realised the strain his brother had been under over the past few years, suffering post-traumatic stress disorder after his years as a commando. It had been a shock to realise Linc wasn’t the invincible hero that Griff had somehow always thought him to be. It had changed his whole perception of things. Still, it’d probably been for the best that things had all come to a head between them out here. He hated to think what might have happened had Linc been pushed too far by a complete stranger on the street somewhere. As bad as it was, things would have been worse had his brother snapped around someone else. He might have ended up in jail rather than in therapy.

  The approaching growl of a large engine alerted him to his father’s arrival and Griff wearily dragged himself from the cabin to await the inevitable lecture. It didn’t matter that Griff was twenty-seven years old and had been pretty much running the place for the past few years—when it came to stuffing up, you were apparently never too old to get a sermon from your dad on what you should have done.

  ‘I told you it was too wet.’

  ‘It was all right yesterday,’ Griff muttered, trying to keep his cool.

  ‘One day you’ll learn the art of patience. You’re always in such a damn hurry.’

  ‘Yeah, well, the bills and the weather aren’t exactly patient either, are they?’

  ‘One more day would have saved you a mo
rning of stuffin’ around though, wouldn’t it?’

  Griffin took after his old man, which was why they argued so much, but that was where the similarities ended. Linc was the one who took after their dad in looks. Griff was more like their mother’s side of the family, taller than both his father and brother and, in his opinion, far better looking, although Linc would no doubt disagree.

  The two brothers had always been like chalk and cheese in everything, even down to the type of women they preferred. In his day Linc had worn the stereotypical military man-whore medal, happy to play the field and play hard. His line of work had made it impossible to maintain any kind of long-term relationship. Griff, on the other hand, had only had two serious girlfriends. He’d been shy and tongue-tied around girls as a kid, and that hadn’t changed much as a grown man. He wasn’t after anything complicated; he just wanted a marriage like his parents’, built on love, trust and a good, solid partnership.

  He’d thought he’d found that with his previous relationships, the first starting way back in high school with Olivia Dawson—his neighbour and best friend’s twin sister. They’d grown up next door and everyone had thought they’d end up together, but when Griff had gone away to agricultural college Liv had broken up with him. He’d been heartbroken and utterly confused. Later, he’d met Tiffany and for three years they’d been inseparable, but then she’d got a job offer too good to pass up—overseas. Maybe if he’d been willing to leave Stringybark Creek, he’d have been able to save the relationship, but Stringybark was in his blood—farming here was the only thing he’d ever seen himself doing.

  He hadn’t been celibate since then. He was a healthy red-blooded male after all. He’d been seeing Ashley from the pub on and off, but it was just a casual thing. She was nice enough, but she wasn’t into exclusivity and he really wasn’t into sharing, so it was never going to go anywhere. Nope, it seemed like he was destined to become a crabby old bachelor farmer who lived on the same property as his parents for the rest of his life. Fantastic. If he hadn’t felt like shit before, he certainly did now, thanks to that rosy image of his future.

  He finished attaching the strap to the rear of the tractor and waited for his dad to start pulling. For a minute Griff thought the machine might be in too deep and they’d have to call in an excavator to dig the bloody thing out, but after a few more tries, the wheels gained traction and the tractor was finally pulled from its muddy resting place.

  At least one thing’s gone right today then, he thought, climbing back into the cabin and heading home to the shed. Looked like he’d be spending another day on maintenance instead of out in the field where he needed to be.

  Great start to the day.

  Back in the shed later, Griff climbed down out of the tractor and rotated his shoulder. It still got stiff sometimes. He knew he should have continued with the physio longer after the accident, but he’d had work to do and couldn’t justify the extra trips into Griffith each week. The accident. Yeah. That was how the family referred to it, on the rare occasions that it was mentioned. Usually it wasn’t talked about. It was the dark shadow that hung over them all. If no one spoke about it, then it was almost as though it hadn’t happened.

  Griffin knew it was hard for his parents to deal with. Hell, it was hard for him to wrap his head around most of the time too. Being beaten senseless by your own brother was pretty incomprehensible, but he knew for his parents the conflict and hurt went deeper. They were torn between outrage over their youngest son’s injuries and knowing their eldest son had been in desperate need of help. He didn’t envy them. It was hard enough dealing with his own feelings about the whole thing, without being stuck in the middle of two kids. As far as years went, this one, so far, had been pretty bloody awful. The blows had kept coming for his parents with his older sister’s marriage falling apart hot on the heels of the wedding reception from hell.

  He picked up the toolbox and carried it over to the ute he’d been working on yesterday. He hadn’t been surprised at the break-up of his sister’s marriage. He’d known Harmony and Don had been in trouble. He’d heard rumours about Don—that he’d been spotted in different places with a younger woman, and wasn’t even particularly secretive about it. But when Griff had tried to talk to Harmony about it before Christmas, she’d none too politely told him to mind his own business.

  This was why he hated being stuck inside. When he was frustrated, he always seemed to dwell on the negative. It didn’t make sense—his whole existence revolved around working alone and having too much time to think, but when he was outside doing what he loved, his thoughts always seemed calmer. Lately though, the thing he’d always taken for granted—his family’s unshakable foundation—had taken a substantial knock and it wasn’t something that could be easily ignored. It was more than just the fallout from the fight. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly, but things were definitely changing for the Callahans.

  ‘There you are,’ his mother said, coming up beside him unexpectedly. Lavinia Callahan was the most capable person Griff knew and he hated the dark shadows beneath her eyes that had appeared after New Year’s Eve. They had faded over time, but there was still a lingering sadness in them that he caught every now and then when she thought no one was watching.

  ‘Now that you’re not out in the tractor, come on up for morning tea.’

  ‘Nah. Thanks anyway, Mum, but I want to get this finished today,’ he said, nodding at the raised bonnet of the ute.

  ‘Look, if it’s because of your father—’ she started.

  Griff quickly shook his head. ‘It’s fine, Mum.’

  ‘You know he doesn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘Just once I’d like to not get a lecture about everything. Is it that hard for him to be civil?’

  ‘It’s just his way.’

  ‘And he’s never made a mistake or gone into a field too early or, heaven forbid, got anything bogged before?’ Griff said sarcastically.

  ‘Of course he has,’ Lavinia sighed.

  ‘The difference is, I don’t make a big song and dance about it.’

  ‘I wish you two could get along for just one day,’ Lavinia said tightly, rubbing her temples with her fingertips, and Griff lost a little of his simmering annoyance.

  ‘I’m just busy today, that’s all, Mum.’

  ‘You’re busy every day. You don’t come up to the house for dinner any more. I don’t see you unless I come looking for you. I miss you.’

  ‘Mum, I live literally five hundred metres away.’

  ‘And you’d think that would mean I’d see you a lot more often than I do. I’m worried about you, son. You’ve become distant and I don’t like it. You and your father need to get whatever this thing is between you out in the open and deal with it before it tears this family even further apart.’

  Griff heard the slight tremor in his mother’s voice and shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to hurt his mum. She was the heart and soul of this family. He hadn’t meant to make her feel slighted, but she was right, he had been keeping his distance. He was sick and tired of his father always criticising him. It didn’t matter what he did, he never did it the way his dad would have done it or had done it in the past. It had always been the same between them, so it wasn’t as though it was anything new, but Griff had reached a point where he couldn’t stand it any more.

  He envied the relationship his father and older brother had. He’d sat on the sidelines for years listening to his dad boasting to his neighbours, and anyone else foolish enough to ask, about his son who served in the army. He’d watched them laughing and sharing stories on the verandah on Linc’s occasional visits home, and he’d always been the silent onlooker. He kind of even got it—his brother was awesome. He was humble, smart and good-looking, and he lived a life of adventure and bravery that most people couldn’t even imagine. It wasn’t his brother’s fault that Linc got on with their father better than he did. He knew that. But it still hurt. Even now, after everything that had hap
pened, his father still held his eldest son up on that damn pedestal. Just once it would be nice to have his old man congratulate him on something for a change. Was that really too much to ask?

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ he said, feeling weary. ‘I’ll come up for dinner tonight, okay?’

  Lavinia gave a brief nod and straightened her shoulders. ‘That would be more than okay. Thank you, darling.’ She moved to turn away, but then paused. ‘He cares about you, Griff. He loves both his boys. But you and he are so damn alike. You’re both stubborn and neither of you knows how to communicate properly. If you’d just learn to listen to each other once in a while.’

  ‘I listen. I don’t have any bloody choice.’

  ‘But you don’t hear him. He still wants to be listened to and have his experience appreciated. When you dismiss what he’s saying because you want to do things the new way, you make him feel as though all his years working and learning about this land are meaningless and irrelevant.’ She raised her hand when he opened his mouth to protest. ‘And, yes, I know he needs to listen to you. Maybe if you tried sharing your ideas instead of presenting him with a fait accompli, it’d open the lines of communication a little.’ ‘He’d only decide it was a waste of time and tell me to do it his way.’

  ‘I think you’d be surprised. You don’t ask his opinion about anything. For everything you two have in common, I’ve never heard either of you just sit and have a conversation about something you both enjoy. It’s sad.’

  Griff frowned. That wasn’t true. But then the more he thought about it, the more he realised maybe it was. When was the last time they had sat and talked about anything? They didn’t—talk, that is. His father gave his opinion about whatever was on the radio or in the paper, and Griff usually shut up and let him rant.

  ‘Just think about it and maybe give it a try. I’ll see you tonight, darling.’ Lavinia smiled as she touched his hand and walked away, leaving Griff with something new to think about for a change.

  Two

  Olivia Dawson stared out the window of her office overlooking Sydney Harbour and knew she should be appreciating the way the water was extra blue and sparkling today, but she was too busy processing the review meeting she’d just had with her boss. She felt ill. She’d received a reprimand and a warning that if she didn’t lift her game she’d be replaced on one of the biggest accounts the firm managed.