Eliza brushed Lincoln aside as she thrust out her hand. “I recognize you from the website. Eliza Williams.”
The young man shook her hand warmly. “Eddie. Eddie McLeod.”
Lincoln clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Great to meet you, bro.”
Eddie chuckled. “Sorry, mate. Don’t talk like that over here.”
Scolded, Lincoln tried to cover his embarrassment by introducing Bree and Andy as he approached, pushing a cart with three heavy canvas bags threatening to spill from it.
Eddie surveyed the group. “Do we have all four of you? Well, welcome. Let’s get started.” He turned on his heel and Lincoln fell in behind him, past a colorful display of pink-and-purple paintings made of nothing but dots, baskets of woven grass, and burned wood fashioned into furniture.
Eliza made a beeline to them. “Wonderful! The color, the detail.”
Lincoln slowed as they approached the entrance doors to the airport, flanked by two ceiling-high banners, imprinted with photographs of cave paintings—long, sweeping daubs and swirls of ancient art in chalk and red ochre. Shapes that could have been kangaroos and snakes, chased by figures that must have been hunters.
Bree nudged him. “I hope we see some of those while we’re in the outback.”
The doors slid open and Lincoln was assaulted by a curtain of crisp heat. Head down, a heavyset man shouldered him as he charged past, the corks jumping and swaying from a battered hat; thick, hairy arms jutting out of his dark-blue tank top, straining against the paunch of middle age.
Lincoln stepped around him. “Careful.”
Andy wasn’t looking. The man charged into his cart, scattering Andy and his bags across the carpet. The man rushed to apologize and picked up his luggage. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to bowl you over like that.”
Andy brushed himself off and squinted up at the man’s outstretched hand. “That’s okay, buddy. I should probably watch where I’m headed.”
The man tipped his broad hat, the corks bouncing in front of his gleaming eyes. “Shouldn’t we all.” He burst into a cackle of laughter as he charged deeper into the airport.
“This way, please.” Eddie lifted the last of Andy’s bags onto his cart and gestured along the curb to a massive black vehicle—the love child of a four-wheel drive and a minibus—parked under metal shade sails embossed with squiggles and swirls. On the side stylized writing matched the embroidery over Eddie’s heart: Outback Tours.
The passenger door opened and a second young man in black and khaki jumped out. A crooked grin and a tousled mop of beach-blond hair thrust out a hand. “G’day! Sloaney.”
Eddie opened a trailer behind the vehicle and lifted their luggage into it. “Everyone hop in. Let’s go explore the heart of Australia.”
Lincoln held open the back doors. “Ladies, after you.”
Eliza and Bree climbed in with grateful thanks. Lincoln followed Andy into the vehicle and another welcome burst of cool air. The interior was sheer luxury of leather and polish. The seats, padded and tall, would have been at home in business class.
Eddie pulled away from the curb. “We’ve got a bit of a drive to get out to the campsite. I know you’re probably all tired from your long flights, so relax and we’ll let you know when we’re getting close.”
Lincoln leaned his head back against the soft leather and took stock. The reunion had started well. This trip would be significant for Eliza, even if Bree said she’d moved on. Significant could only mean one thing. Him. She was alone and wondering if she’d made the right decision. Perhaps Dianne’s letter had come at a good time. He no longer needed to hide a marriage that was dead in all ways but a legal sense. The thread it had hung by for two years was about to be snipped. And it wouldn’t get in the way of rekindling an old flame.
Through Lincoln’s window the airport disappeared behind them, and the world flattened out. He closed his eyes and listened to the drone of the tires. But not for long.
Eight
Eliza’s eyelids fluttered open to a red-and-black blur. The red dirt ran parallel to the black asphalt beyond the window that cooled her cheek. She squinted at crisp, white clouds that hung in a sky of azure blue. In every direction was red: the dust powdering the heart of Central Australia and the rocks waiting to be worn down over the next thousand years. The horizon beckoned, a blurred, shimmering, ruled line between red and blue. This was a land of contrast.
Across from her, Lincoln stared out the window. Behind her, Andy and Bree nodded along in the back seat, lost in sleep. Over the tires’ drone on the road, a low rumble grew and Eliza looked up into the sky. They must still be near the airport. She tried to shake her head into the right time zone as a tiny, shimmering box grew in the distance, miles ahead on the dead-straight ribbon of asphalt. “What is that?”
Eddie gripped the wheel, the steel sinews in his forearms rippling as if preparing for a collision. “Road train.”
“A train? Out here?” Eliza strained to look at the road ahead.
Sloaney threw a comment over his shoulder. “No trains around here for hundreds of kilometers. A road train is a truck. A big one.”
Eliza was transfixed as the box grew into a large truck that loomed in front of the window, its bulky red cabin taking up more than its share of the road.
Lincoln whistled. “How big is it?”
Eddie slowed the four-wheel drive and pulled two tires onto the dirt flanking the asphalt. “They don’t call it a road train for nothing. A big engine pulling along all these trailers.”
The road train now filled half the windshield and was almost upon them. Eddie gripped the wheel hard but raised one finger from the steering wheel, as if in greeting. The driver lifted a finger in return, and Eliza swore she could see a rust-red ponytail bouncing behind the cap.
With a thundering roar and a blur of red, the semitrailer rushed past her window, followed by a wall of silvery steel that felt like it lasted for minutes. Their four-wheel drive shuddered as it was drawn into the bouncing wake of the giant truck.
Eddie turned to Sloaney. “That’s unusual.”
Eliza cleared her throat. “Excuse me? Unusual to see a woman behind the wheel? Isn’t that a bit sexist?”
Eddie shrugged. “I meant it’s unusual to see a road train this far out.”
Lincoln’s lips curled in a smirk. “How far have we got to go, guys?”
Eddie tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Not far. Probably another hour?”
“I thought you said it’s not far.”
Sloaney grinned as he turned to face them. “An hour is a trip around the corner out here.”
“How long would it take to drive across the entire country?”
Sloaney’s eyes widened as he did the mental math. “Oh, thirty hours—”
Lincoln scoffed. “You can drive from LA to New York in forty.”
“—will get you to the red center from Sydney. From there to Perth is another thirty. Nonstop.”
Eliza stifled a laugh as she resumed her gaze out the window—the constant red was as bright as in her dream. Now was the time to ask. “So Eddie and Sloaney, I’d love to learn more about the culture, and I’m very interested in doing a walkabout.”