Winter in Full Bloom Read Online Free PDF Page B

freeways? They’re everywhere. I saw one of the blooms up close, and it made me think of tiny fuzzy tennis balls.”
    Marcus grinned. “It’s the wattle, the national flower. In fact, that’s where we get the national colors … green and gold.”
    “Oh.” I loosened the grip on my purse. “You said you had a cause. What did you mean?”
    “Well, it was my personal campaign to meet you.”
    “Oh.” Well, at least he seemed consistent in his audacity. “So, I’m wondering … are all Australian men so forward and rude?”
    “I reckon. Truthfully, they can be a bit rough around the edges sometimes, although you’ll see more of that in the bush than in the city. But then I’m not from Australia. Or as they say here … Stralia.”
    “If you’re not from here, where are you from?”
    “Texas.”
    “You’re kidding. Right?”
    “Born in Dallas.” He stared up at the sky as if there were some revelation written there. “Just look at those clouds off to the west … a wash of Prussian blue near the horizon. It’s the color of deep twilight or … the color of a storm brewing.”
    For a moment I saw the layers of blue and coasted with my own thoughts. Before I could catch myself, I murmured, “I wonder what’s just beyond the horizon.”
    “Well,” Marcus said. “We’ll just have to use our imaginations… won’t we?”
    Back to reality, I pushed on past the weather report. “You don’t seem to have any Texas accent.”
    “Pity, isn’t it?” He looked at me over nonexistent glasses.
    That time a smile crept out before I could filter it. Now he’d made me curious, so I set my purse down and stayed a bit longer to ask, “So, why Australia?”
    “I could ask you the same thing. Texas is on the other side of the world. Not a random choice to come here.”
    I looked at my hands, which had made a limp little vessel in my lap. “I’m here to find someone.” The last thing I’d planned to do was tell this Marcus fellow my business, and yet I did anyway. It must have been the solitude talking. And he could probably tell. I wore my lonesomeness as if it were Quasimodo’s hump.
    “I honestly wouldn’t have guessed that one.”
    Marcus fingered the mysterious case sitting between us, so I thought I might toss him a friendly bone of repartee. “So, what’s in the case?”
    He touched the container with affection. “The Great Highland Bagpipe. It’s broken at the moment. Some things aren’t easy to mend, but when they’re precious enough, it’s worth the effort.” Marcus smiled.
    The man was a walking innuendo. “So, you’re a bagpiper?”
    “Among other things. But it’s only a hobby.”
    Hobby. The word seemed as foreign as the place I sat. I didn’t have any pastime interests, didn’t bother cultivating them. Julie had been so much a part of my life that I’d never taken the time for them. They’d always seemed pointless, or were they merely ill-defined like a blurry photograph? “You have to know yourself to have hobbies… be a friend to yourself,” I let slip out.
    “Yes. Yes, you do.” He rested his arm over the back of the bench and leaned toward me. “I have an idea. Maybe I can assist you in your search. The person you’re looking for.”
    I thought for a moment, not wanting to throw away any chance for help, especially if it were divinely sent, but I also didn’t want to engage the services of someone who seemed what my mother would call half-baked. Or worse. “I don’t know you, so, I’m not—”
    “But if you had dinner with me tonight that would no longer be true. Hey, I know a place that has kangaroo on the barbie. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried it.”

 
    The little bit of child left inside me cringed at the thought. “It’s a nice offer, sort of, except I can’t imagine eating Roo.”
    “Who?”
    “You know, Roo from Pooh … never mind.” I suddenly had serious doubts about a man who’d never heard of Roo, but since he had a twinkle in his