Girl Alone: An Australian Outback Romance by Lucy Walker

Author:Lucy Walker [Walker, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: australian author, small town and rural, outback romance, australian rural novels, australian romance, clean romance, clean and wholesome, autstralian rural romance
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Small Town & Rural Romance)
Published: 2019-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Mardie took the Richies into her confidence, and all three of them put their heads together as to methods by which to make the two men welcome when they came into the store. Mr Richie busied himself pouring them very, very generous drinks, and Mrs Richie offered them lunch.

‘I’ve something special,’ she said with a broad smile ‒ not mentioning she’d taken it out of the deep freezer only five minutes before. ‘You’re lucky. We only have our special recipe for brush-turkey one day a month. Today’s the day.’

‘Brush-turkey, hey?’ the taller man said with a grin. ‘You must have been out moon-lighting, Missis. It’s against the law to kill brush-turkey up this way, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. But we didn’t kill it, you see. It was brought in by one of the station owners passing through. I don’t ever ask questions when things like this come my way. What did you say your name was, please?’

‘I didn’t say, but I’m Jim and my mate’s name is Bill. Smith and Brown are the surnames.’

‘Jim Smith. Bill Brown. I seem to have heard names like that before.’ Mrs Richie was busy rinsing glasses while her husband filled up for the visitors. ‘I must have read those names in a book. You wouldn’t be famous people, would you?’

‘I guess you’re a very literary person, Missis. Smith and Brown are real pedigree names. Now what about that brush-turkey? Eh, Bill? Sounds good to me.’

‘If you’re thinking of staying overnight I’ll need those two pedigreed surnames for the register,’ Mr Richie said cheerfully. ‘What’s the hurry, anyway? Stay the night, have an early breakfast, and you’ll make the Swan River in time for tea tomorrow afternoon.’

Mr Richie had doctored the beers with a modicum of pure alcohol.

Not enough to put them on their ears, he reassured himself. Just enough to keep ’em affable and wide open to suggestion.

Mardie was in the next room all this time ‒ the one on the far side of the pressed iron wall that did not reach the ceiling. Her special job for this occasion was listening-in. Voices rise, and even the row of shining brasses and the fern baskets wouldn’t keep out a word that was said in the bar. Mr Richie meantime was hoping Mardie did not possess the sixth sense that would inform her about the pure alcohol. She was too much an innocent to know about that kind of double-dealing ruse.

‘You must be pretty keen on business round here,’ the man called Bill said. ‘Almost begging us to put up for the night. Do you treat all through-travellers to this “Welcome-and-stay” technique?’

Oh dear. Perhaps Mr Richie’s overdone it, Mardie feared. She need not have worried. Mr and Mrs Richie were old hands at handling odd customers.

‘As many as will listen,’ Mrs Richie said. ‘And they always come back for more. You see, there’s only one way to teach people what a good place this is. That is, give them a taste of it. Clean sheets, hot water, early-morning call with a cup of tea brought in.

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