Free Outback Dreams by Rachael Johns

chat on Monday. That effort hadn’t yet stretched to cooking, but he’d washed the dishes every night and even done a load of midweek washing. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same for her father. They’d all been treading on eggshells for years, but after her little announcement, things had moved from uncomfortable to impossible.
    As if her thoughts summoned him, Frank Forrester lumbered into the kitchen, wearing his farmer’s uniform of jeans and a blue chambray shirt, both of which had seen better days.
    â€˜Morning, Dad.’ Faith attempted a ceasefire smile but couldn’t help glancing down at his feet already encased in dusty old boots.
    He caught her looking and scowled. ‘Don’t know why you care about boots in the house when you’ve gone on a cleaning strike anyway.’
    She opened her mouth to tell him she hadn’t gone on a cleaning strike, not even close, but closed it again. Anything she said would only rile him up. Why couldn’t the man be reasonable for five seconds? She hated that the only time they came close to having a conversation, they fought. Deciding it was safer to just bite her tongue, she blinked away the threatening tears and turned back to the task at hand. Without asking her father, she cooked him breakfast as well, but by the time she’d served their plates high with fried eggs and bacon, she’d lost her appetite.
    Once upon a time, her daddy had adored her, but it seemed those days were over. If things didn’t get better between them soon, she’d be forced to leave, whether she found another job or not.
    â€˜After I’ve tidied the house, milked Daisy, done some washing and collected the eggs’—this for Frank’s sake, to show she hadn’t completely turned her back on them—‘I’m going into town to the post office and to run some errands. Either of you need anything while I’m there?’ She only looked at Ryan, unable to bear the wrath in her dad’s eyes. A girl could take only so much hostility.
    â€˜More Coke please. I drank the last can last night,’ Ryan said.
    Frank said nothing.
    She nodded and started to clean up.
    A few moments of silence later, Ryan spoke again. ‘Are we still on for tonight?’
    â€˜Yes. Definitely.’ Despite the weird dreams about Monty, Faith had been looking forward to this night out all week. It sounded as if he’d invited every guy within a hundred-kilometre radius, and she planned to be prepared. She’d decided on an all-over overhaul. How would men ever take her femininity seriously if she kept dressing like one of the boys? After an evening spent virtual window-shopping, she’d ordered some new clothes from an online fashion store that promised speedy delivery. She was desperately hoping they’d turn up at the post office today.
    â€˜Earth to Faith?’ Ryan’s words caught her off guard.
    Before she could answer, her dad griped again. ‘Don’t expect to get a sensible word out of her, she’s too busy thinking up airy-fairy plans. Some of us have real jobs to do.’ Leaving his empty plate in front of him, Frank pushed his seat away from the table and stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall.
    Faith looked to Ryan. ‘So I guess your talking to him hasn’t worked yet?’
    Ryan sighed and shook his head. ‘Nope. He wouldn’t even let me broach the subject. But he’ll come round. He just doesn’t know how to handle this new stand-up-for-herself Faith. Personally, I like her.’ With those parting words, Ryan gave her an unexpected hug, swiped the last piece of bacon off his plate and followed their father.
    Faith cleaned the kitchen on autopilot before heading into town.
    As she turned her four-wheel drive into the main street, she waved at a couple of people as they drove past. A trip to town was never quick—there was always someone-or-other to catch up