Rain on a Tin Roof by Suzanne Cass

Author:Suzanne Cass [Cass, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: reluctant hero, australian setting, romantic short story, rural romance, rescue romance, follow a dream
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

LANA

‘Can you hear that?’ Dusty asked.

‘What?’ Lana tipped her head on the side. ‘It’s stopped raining, is that what you mean?’ She cradled the hot cup of sweet tea in her hands, the warmth seeping right through to her bones. He was right, she needed the drink, it was doing her good. Dusty made her sit up on their makeshift bed, still swathed in blankets and offered her the metal mug filled with the warming beverage. Now he was banging around near the fireplace, heating up some tinned baked beans for them both to eat.

‘Yes, it’s stopped raining. But do you know why?’

Lana just shook her head and stared at him in anticipation. Then he did something completely unexpected. He strode over and flung the door wide open. It was pitch black outside. It was scary at how completely and utterly dark it was out there. The glow from the now blazing fire cast a small pool of light just outside the doorway. And in that light she finally made out what Dusty meant. Small white flakes drifted weightlessly down to earth.

‘Snow? Is it snowing?’ And now she knew what to listen for, she could indeed hear the snow falling. A sound as soft as cat paws padding across the roof. A gentle whispering against the corrugated iron.

‘Yes it is,’ Dusty declared as he shut the door again before all the warm air could leak out. He’d put his flannelette shirt and jeans back on when he’d jumped out of bed to stoke the fire and put the billy on to boil. Lana let out a quiet sigh as he put his clothes back on. She’d rather been enjoying the view of his powerful thighs and straight, muscled back. Especially now she knew them intimately. Enjoyed having her arms wrapped around those shoulders, and her legs entwined with his. She now knew exactly how solid and warm his chest was; her head had been cradled against it for the past few hours, her ear resting just above his heart. And she also appreciated just how impressive his biceps were as they’d curled behind her head and across her stomach, keeping her warm and safe.

Dusty was a splendid looking man. There was no denying it. A thick shock of black hair covered his head. A few tufts of which were now standing up at odd angles from where he’d used his jacket as a pillow. But it just made him even more endearing.

She now saw through his gruff demeanour, which’d scared her back when he’d first ordered her to take her clothes off and get under the blankets. Now she understood the big-hearted, contemplative man that lay beneath. She knew enough of the farmers who lived up here in the Snowies from visiting her uncle over the years. Typical of most alpine men, Dusty was steady as a rock, laconic, hard working and shaped by the elements. But that was where the similarities stopped. There was a certain sadness that radiated from Dusty.

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