The Fletchers’ place sat on the far side of the valley, a sprawling weatherboard homestead with a wide verandah that wrapped around three sides. Bryce parked his ute beside a row of others—Grant's ute, Ethan’s battered LandCruiser, a few he didn’t recognise—and killed the engine.
The evening air carried woodsmoke and the low thrum of voices, a guitar picking out something slow and familiar.
Callan met him at the steps, a beer in each hand, his grin easy under the verandah light.
“There he is. Was starting to think you’d got lost.”
“Took a wrong turn at the creek crossing.”
Bryce shook his hand, then accepted the beer Callan pressed into it.
“You been busy?”
“Bit of fencing. Bit of building.”
Callan nodded toward the beer.
“Sounds exhausting.”
Mauve appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel, and her face lit up when she saw him.
“Bryce. Come in. There’s food on the table and I won’t take no for an answer.”
The house opened into a large living room where the furniture had been pushed back against the walls to make room for people. A fire crackled in the hearth, and the smell of slow-cooked beef and rosemary filled the air.
Bryce recognised faces—Ethan and Adele by the window, Tessa perched on the arm of a couch, Holly sprawled in an armchair with her boots off, feet tucked under her.
Grant detached himself from a conversation near the fireplace and crossed the room, clapping Bryce on the shoulder.
“Well, well. You came back.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Grant grinned. “There he is.”
Elara was by the fire, a glass of wine in her hand, and she caught his eye over the rim.
“I’m glad you came.”
Bryce nodded.
“It’s a good spot.”
“It is.” She glanced around the room. “Callan and Mauve know how to host.”
The evening unfolded around him with an ease that still surprised him.
With Ethan, he talked about fencing, feed prices and the usual things that came up when two people spent enough time around properties.
Adele told him about a client’s horse that had learned to open its own stable door.
He topped up Elara’s wine when her glass ran low and didn’t think twice about it.
At some point the guitar gave way to a speaker and a playlist, and the music shifted from campfire ballads to something with a beat.
Holly appeared at his elbow, a grin on her face and a drink in her hand.
“You’re not dancing.”
“I’m not much of a dancer.”
“That’s what they all say.”
She set her drink down and took his hand.
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then I’ll embarrass you until you do.”
“That sounds persuasive.”
“I’m very persuasive.”
She tugged him toward the open space where a few couples were moving.
Bryce let himself be pulled.
The music was warm and low, and Holly moved with an easy confidence that made it difficult to stay self-conscious. She kept her hands on his shoulders, stepping close then away, laughing when he missed a beat.
Her body was small and compact against his, and when the song slowed she stepped closer without hesitation.
“See?” she said, close enough that her breath stirred the hair at his temple. “Not so hard.”
“You make it look easy.”
“I’ve had practice.”
She pulled back, eyes bright.
“You’re not terrible.”
“That’s a generous read.”
“I’m a generous person.”
She winked and spun away to grab her drink, leaving him standing in the middle of the floor, flustered and grinning despite himself.
Across the room, Tessa watched from the couch, a small smile playing at her lips.
She didn’t approach.
When Bryce eventually drifted back toward the edge of the room, she was there, standing beside him, close enough that her arm brushed his when she lifted her glass.
“She’s a lot,” Tessa said.
“In the best way.”
“She’s something.”
Tessa smiled.
“You handled her well.”
“I survived.”
“Barely.”
Her shoulder stayed against his.
A little later Bryce went looking for another beer.
Grant was already at the esky.
He handed one over.
“You know Holly’s chasing you, don’t you?”
Bryce looked at him.
“What?”
Grant stared at him for a second.
Then laughed.
“You really don’t.”
Bryce frowned.
“She was dancing.”
“She was practically climbing you.”
“She dances with everyone.”
Grant opened his own beer.
“Not like that.”
Bryce looked back toward the room.
Holly was talking to Adele, laughing about something.
Tessa sat a little farther away, watching the room over the rim of her glass.
Grant followed his gaze.
“Pretty sure you’re not short of options.”
Bryce looked at him again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Grant smiled into his beer.
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing.”
“Figure it out.”
He walked away before Bryce could answer.
Bryce stood beside the esky for another few seconds.
Then Holly looked over.
Caught him staring.
Smiled.
Bryce looked away.
Later, when the fire had burned low and the crowd had thinned to the regulars, Holly found him again.
She settled onto the arm of the couch beside him, her knee brushing his thigh, her drink dangling loose in her fingers.
“You’re thinking again.”
“Apparently I do that.”
“Too much.”
Her hand landed on his thigh.
Not tentative.
Her fingers traced a slow circle through the denim.
Bryce looked at her.
She held his gaze and let her hand slide higher.
His breath caught.
Holly smiled.
There was no ambiguity in it.
“You alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Her palm pressed against him through the denim, firm and deliberate.
Bryce’s jaw tightened.
Holly watched his face.
“You’re very easy to read when you stop pretending you’re not.”
“I’m not pretending anything.”
“Sure.”
Her hand moved once, slow enough to leave no doubt what she was doing.
Bryce didn’t pull away.
Holly’s smile widened.
Then she leaned close enough that her mouth was near his ear.
“I like you, Bryce.”
He turned his head slightly.
“I gathered.”
“Finally.”
That made him laugh.
“Grant told me.”
Holly pulled back.
“He what?”
“That you were chasing me.”
She stared at him.
Then burst out laughing.
“You needed Grant to tell you?”
“Apparently.”
“That is adorable.”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely starting.”
She squeezed his thigh once, then reached for her drink.
Bryce shook his head.
Across the room, Tessa caught his eye.
She smiled.
Not annoyed.
Not surprised.
Just knowing.
Bryce looked away first.
The night rolled on.
At some point Bryce realised Grant was no longer by the fire.
Elara was gone too.
He looked around.
Callan.
Mauve.
Gone.
Holly was still beside him.
She followed his gaze.
Then smiled.
“You’re seeing it differently now, huh?”
Bryce looked toward the hallway.
Then back at her.
“Yeah.”
“A bit?”
“Yeah. A bit.”
Holly took a drink.
She didn’t explain.
Neither did anyone else.
A while later she shifted off the couch arm and sat properly beside him, shoulder against his.
Bryce let her stay there.
The fire burned lower.
Tessa was still across the room.
Holly’s hand rested lightly on his thigh.
Bryce took another drink and watched the coals settle.