Outback Outlaw

By Tabitha Levin

A simple case of mistaken identity leads Claire Ryan to invite the rugged stranger into the pub.

He opens the possibility that the Australian outback town of Tilburra isn’t as bad as she first thought.

But everyone tells her he’s no good. That she must stay away.

With her brother trying to set her up with a steadfast business owner, Claire knows she needs to get out of town to clear her head.

The local rodeo seems the perfect place to let off steam and have a well-earned vacation to boot.

With both men wanting her, Claire must make a decision. About her life, about love, and about who’s telling her the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tabitha Levin
• Release date: Nov 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386255727

Book preview

1

I can look after myself. I have pepper spray in my bag. I nod my head back to the bar where I left my purse. He won’t dare come here .

Charlie raises a crooked brow and shakes his head. You’re not used to the country, Claire.

You’re right. But the city is far more dangerous. Or will you argue me on that point too?

He chuckles. I gave up on arguing with you when we were kids.

Damn straight. I smile at him.

Charlie looks warily out of the glass front door of the pub and flicks the lock closed. He turns the small handwritten sign to the closed side and walks back behind the bar.

I follow and sit on the customer side, leaning my elbows on the counter, watching him as he wipes down the shiny metal surface. You don’t have to stay.

I’m not leaving you alone while he’s still out there.

I thought you promised to meet with your friend, what was his name again?

Tony. He glances up at me while he continues wiping. He’s single you know.

Oh please, I do not need you trying to hook me up with the first man I meet here.

You could do a lot worse than Tony.

You’re just saying that because he’s your friend.

I’m saying that because he’s stable. He has his own business and lots of respect around here.

I don’t bother with a reply. I know my brother is only looking out for me, but I’ve been doing just fine on my own. I smile and change the subject.

I can’t believe you shut this place so early. The bars in the city would only just get going at this time.

Ten on a Wednesday night isn’t exactly the social event of Tilburra. These are working people, they need to be up at dawn, some of them.

Charlie’s phone lights up with a new message. He glances over at it. Asshole took the whole cash drawer, all the day’s takings. Darn it, Tony would be fuming. He relies on that money you know.

What are the police saying?

They’re on his tail. Still, don’t have a location.

Just one man?

Looks like.

Probably long gone by now.

Still can’t be too careful. He opens his cash drawer and counts out the day’s takings, recording the entry into a paper notepad. He places the notepad into a narrow shelf below the cash drawer and takes the money to the office.

Can I do anything? I follow him and lean against the door frame to his office as he deposits the money into a safe.

You can go upstairs and stay safe.

Thanks for letting me stay here. I walk over and give him a hug. I really appreciate it.

Where else were you going to go? We’ve got to stick together, Claire, you and me.

Go and see your friend. I’ll be fine here.

Not while whoever broke into Tony’s store is still on the run. I told you, it’s not safe.

Oh please. I swat at him. This place is all locked up and if I get a hint of trouble I’ll call the cops. I’ll be fine.

He grins at me. Oh, it’s not you I’m worried about. If that thug comes here, I’m more worried about what you’d do to him. Seeing as you’ve got pepper spray and can look after yourself and all.

Ha, ha, very funny.

His phone alerts him to another message. Tony again. He shrugs and places it back into his pocket.

"I swear I’m going to have to pepper spray you if you don’t go see your friend. I’m fine."

He looks up nervously. You sure.

Yes. The place is locked, and anyway, thieves don’t break into places when there are people around. They choose places where they won’t get caught. He won’t come here. And I’ll call the police if I hear one wrong noise.

Charlie narrows his eyes. And me. Promise you’ll call me too.

Of course. Go.

He hesitates, wrestling with the decision to leave me alone. He needn’t worry, but I think it’s sweet that he does.

Charlie leaves by the back door, glancing back over his shoulder one last time.

Go, I order, pointing away. I’m locking it right behind you.

I’ll be back in an hour.

Nothing is going to happen in one hour.

Keep your phone close.

I grin and shake my head. Fine. Stop being an overprotective pain in the ass.

He chuckles and grabs the car keys out of his back pocket.

His car is parked at the back of the pub. Charlie leaves through the gate in that direction.

2

Ilock the door behind him, listening as I hear the roar of his utility drive away .

Back inside the pub, I look around. It’s a regular country pub. The lower level is open plan with the bar against one wall. Wooden tables are scattered throughout in no discernible pattern, just where there’s space. I count seven tables, twenty chairs. A pool table and dart board are in the back which is where, I assume, most people congregate.

The carpet is worn in the middle where most people walk and the design is a faded orange paisley print. It doesn’t look like it’s been updated since the nineties. It probably hasn’t.

Stairs on the right lead upward to five boarding rooms. Not that anyone stays in them. Charlie says I’m the second person to ever stay in one and I believe him. But it’s my only choice right now.

I stayed in the city for as long as I could after I lost my job, looking for another. But eventually, my savings ran out and I had to admit defeat.

Tilburra wasn’t where I wanted to end up. But hey, I’m here now, and I’ve got to make the best of it.

So what if I have no idea on how to pour a beer, I can learn. And Charlie needs the help. I run my finger over a windowsill in the corner, leaving a pathway through the dust.

First things first, tidy this place to acceptable standards. It’s the least I can do.

I get busy wiping down every surface that looks like it hasn’t been touched in some time. The tables, the windowsills, the corners of the baseboards. My rag is filthy when I finish.

Once I’ve rinsed it out I search for the vacuum and do the floor. It’ll need a good shampoo too, but I don’t have the supplies for that right now. I make a mental note to get that from the local store in the morning.

Once I’ve done vacuuming the place feels and smells a lot fresher.

It’s time to empty the vacuum bag. The trash can under the bar isn’t big enough, and anyway, I don’t want to get dust back over everything. It’ll have to be emptied in the dumpster outside.

I take the vacuum bag with me and hesitate at the back door. I shouldn’t go out there, not after I promised. Ah, heck, it’ll only be five seconds. To the trash and back.

I leave the bag by the back door as I grab my pepper spray, tucking it into the waistband of my jeans. Just in case.

Then unlock the door and go outside.

The air is fresh and still. A slight breeze cools the sweat that I didn’t know had beaded on my forehead. I reach up to wipe it away with my arm as I take the vacuum bag over to the dumpster.

The top is closed and I have to put the bag down as I struggle to lift the heavy lid.

Need any help? A deep voice from behind startles me and I turn to see who’s there, just as the top slams down on my finger.

Owww, I scream, pulling my finger to my chest and buckling over. Why’d you do that?

My finger throbs in intense pain. I look back at the guy and glare at him. He’s tall with dark hair. Stubble drags across his cheek. A few lines around the corner of his eyes. Laugh lines, my mother used to call them. When she was alive.

Here, let me look at it. He comes over and reaches for my hand.

I instinctively pull away. It’s fine.

Are you sure about that? He takes my hand and runs his thumb gently over my finger.

Ow. His touch, even though it’s soft, still feels like burning coals are pounding in my hand. I tense and pull back, but he’s still holding my arm. My skin glides under his touch until the contact is broken and we are free.

It’s not broken. Bruised a bit, though. He steps back and cocks his head to the side as if he’s studying me.

A bit. Just a bit? I scoff.

It’s then I realise I don’t know who this person is. I freeze, assessing my options. I could still reach for the pepper spray tucked into my jeans.

You have ice inside? he asks.

My heart is pounding in my chest. Thanks for your help. I can take it from here. I turn, nearly tripping over the vacuum bag.

You shouldn’t be out here alone, he says. Bad people around.

I reach the door and nod quickly. I’m fine.

Charlie wouldn’t want you out all by yourself.

You know my brother?

‘Course I do. Everyone around here does.

I hesitate before closing the door. I’ve judged this person before I actually know who he is. It’s much more likely that he’s some farmer than the thief who stole the money from Tony’s shop. Still. Who are you?

Me? He points his thumb at his chest. Max Kelly, ma’am.

Ma’am? For some reason, I find it funny. A smile creeps onto my lips before I can stop it. He notices.

Yep. Got the farm down on Billington. Cows mostly, but I got a few chickens too.

What are you doing here?

Didn’t keep track of the time. Figured I’d get a quick drink in before closing. I see now that I better get that watch I’ve been meaning to buy.

Most people don’t have watches now. Don’t you have a phone?

He starts walking toward me and I instinctively step back. He leans against the door frame, grabbing the door before it closes on him. My breath is caught firmly in my chest. I don’t, nope. How’s your hand?

Er, it’s … It still hurts like nobody’s business. Fine.

Come on, let’s see about that.

He pushes past me and the door closes behind us with a soft click. I contemplate whether to lock it, but then, if this guy is trouble, I’d be locking myself in with him. But if he isn’t … I decide to keep it unlocked. Just in case.

When I reach the bar, I can see that he’s placed a stack of ice cubes in a cloth and is wrapping them like a gift.

I walk over, keeping my senses alert for signs of danger. He looks up and smiles at me. A sweet, pleasant smile. I notice a small scar just below his bottom lip.

Here, this should help. He comes close and rests my hand in the cold compress. It’s numbing and soothing and really does make my finger feel better.

Thanks, I mutter.

Well, all in a day’s work. He nods his head like he would if he were wearing a hat. I notice his eyes. Deep blue, the colour of the ocean. He moves to leave and I realise I’ve been stupid to be so distrustful. He’s a farmer. Someone who came for a drink not realising the time, just like anyone would in this small country town. I can’t blame him for that. And he knows Charlie.

You want that drink before you go? The words tumble out of my mouth before I know what I’ve said. It’s the least I can do to say thanks for this. I lift my injured hand in front of me.

You can’t pull a beer with that. He chuckles.

I can’t anyway. I haven’t the first clue how to use that tap machine. But I can pour shots. I move around the bar to where the spirits are lined up at the back. I pull two shot glasses from the shelf and grab the Jack Daniels.

I awkwardly try and open the bottle with my good hand. At first, he watches me, amused at my failings, which causes heat to rise in my cheeks.

Here, he says. He reaches across and takes the bottle from me and places the shot glasses in front of him.

He watches me carefully as he pours the whiskey into the glasses, then screws the lid back on the bottle.

This’ll help with the pain, too. He winks and takes his shot, downing it in one gulp, his eyes never leaving mine.

He smiles as he slams the glass down on the table.

I do the same. I take my shot, down it, and hit the glass back on the counter. The whiskey burns the back of my throat. I lick my lips, drinking up every drop of the liquor.

What do I owe you? he asks. He reaches down his dark denim jeans into his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

The till is closed. So this one’s on me.

My turn to say thanks.

I can’t give you another.

Oh yeah, and why’s that? He rests his arms on the counter, lowering his voice so I have to lean in to hear him.

Cops are around. Wouldn’t want you to get a DUI.

He raises his chin, looking at me down the length of his face. Cops around huh?

Yeah, the local store got robbed. You know the owner?

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. A scowl forms in his expression. Yeah, I know Tony Bellwether.

Not a fan, I take it.

Let’s just say, we don’t see eye to eye on all that much.

I nod slowly. So maybe it was you that robbed him. Seeing as you don’t like him much.

If not liking Tony Bellwether was the only motive, then you’re looking at half the town here in Tilburra.

Is he not liked? If that’s true, then I wonder why my brother is such good friends with him. Charlie is usually a good judge of character.

Besides, he continues. How do we know Bellwether didn’t rob himself?

That’s ridiculous.

Is it? The guy is obsessed with money and influence. Wouldn’t put it past him to stage a fake robbery and collect on the insurance.

He wouldn’t.

Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe you’re right and I did it, and here I am, hiding out at the local pub until the police get out of my way.

I can’t tell if he’s teasing me. I search his face, waiting for a hint, something, about who he really is. What he’s really doing here.

He starts laughing. There’s a soft twinkle in his eye. I’ll be going then. Don’t want you to think all us around these parts are like Bellwether. Say hey to your brother for me.

He