Ashton Hill Valentines

"Uncle Jack has to go see Daddy and his friends," she explained to the boys, "You can see him tomorrow for a rematch."

"Yeah, I better get moving. I'll try not to wake you up when I get home," Jack kissed his mother's cheek.

"Stay at my place, I'm staying here tonight, and then at least I'll know that Glen will get home safely," Annie said of her husband, who worked on the council with the groom to be.

"Yeah, alright. You do realise Glen is a big boy who can look after himself, right?" Jack asked with a chuckle.

"I'll feel better if you're making sure he doesn't make an ass of himself. Since Harry won't be here it will give you someone to look after who won't get you into bar fights," she gave him a knowing look.

"That was one time, and I only joined in after the fifth guy joined the fight. Didn't seem fair at that point," Jack defended his actions.

"And it was fair with four against one?" she asked, making him give her his are-you-serious look. Harry was a fully trained member of the SAS. "Yeah, don't answer that," she said, placing a hand on her belly. "Pregnancy brain," she said as an excuse.

"You're pregnant again?" Jack's eyes went wide. "Don't you have a television or computer or something better to do than make babies?"

"Sure, but making them is so much fun!" she laughed as he pulled a face. "Glen does this thing..." she dissolved into laughter.

"Nope, don't need that information," he said, looking like he had tasted something unpleasant.

"Talk to you tomorrow," he kissed her cheek, then his mother's again, and left the house cursing Harry for not being there with him to stop the women in his family from saying things like that. Being home without Harry sucked.

Jack drove back into town and pulled up half a block from Kelly's pub. It was their regular haunt, and this buck's party promised to be a regular night at the pub for him and his friends. These people didn't do strippers or porn, he wasn't even sure a stripper existed in the idyllic hilltop town. He sighed and got out of his car.

He stopped just inside the door and breathed it in, the smell of beer and greasy food and a strange woodsy smell that was unique to this place, as if the owner had lumberjacks in here cutting wood just before opening time. Nothing ever changed in this town, and his eyes took in all the familiar faces and sounds. Some not so familiar, he acknowledged.

The bar counter was a solid length of once rustic wood laid over a just as solid a base, but the girl that stood behind it caught his eye. He knew her, even if he tried; he knew he could never forget her. This girl was the source of the majority of his teenage fantasies, though he had never gotten up enough nerve to ask her out. Lara Collingwood, the prettiest girl in his class by a mile, brunette, with light brown eyes that almost seemed golden, and a cute heart shaped face set off by dimples. Her ass was heart shaped too, and he often wondered if it sported the same dimples. He drew closer, greeting people as he walked and waved to acknowledge his friends in the back corner near the pool table.

"Hello, Lara. You've come back home?" he asked with a friendly smile and a tilt of his head. Those that left Ashton Hill rarely came back for more than just a visit.

"Sure. Why not? There's no place like home, as they say," she shrugged. "What can I get you?" she asked, trying to shut down any small talk from guys who only saw her as that girl from high school. The pretty and popular high school princess was long gone, and she had no desire to relive old times with people who were back for the wedding of one of their classmates and would be expecting the same carefree girl. The men who only saw a pretty face and body and didn't care about the woman she was inside that shell.

"I'll take a smile to start with," he grinned infectiously. "Then I'll take a Monkey Tree, if you've got it. Actually, make that two, and a jug of whatever the boys are drinking." He indicated his friends near the pool table.

"Pure Blonde," she stated, naming the beer and reaching for the jug. "As I remember it you always did have a thing for blondes," she gave a half smile. "I bet you're looking forward to seeing some of those women again at the wedding," she teased.

"I think you have me confused with my brother," he shrugged. "Maybe you should come and protect me from all those blondes, show them that I'm not Harry," he flirted; he had no concerns about revisiting his teenage loves. He'd treated all his girlfriend's well, and was still friendly with them when he saw them on his return visits home.

"I somehow don't think one of the Daredevil Delaney's needs protection from me," she laughed. "My boss warned me about you and your brother." The other bartender, a hulking blonde man who looked ferocious, harrumphed and gave her a "back to work" look before looking meaningfully at the cue of customers waiting at the bar.

"I guess I'll catch up with you later. Good to see you, Lara," Jack gave her a small grin and moved toward the back of the room where his friends waited. He didn't want to cause problems for her just because he could have happily stood there talking to her all night.

The bar was busy and so crowded he lost sight of Lara during the night as he got pulled into a serious conversation with Eric and Glen about a project being developed in the area by old man Ashton himself. When he went to look for Lara later in the night she was gone, not that he was surprised. His timing had always been bad where Lara was concerned. Maybe it was a sign that he should give up once and for all, but she had looked as good as always, and that had only improved with age. He felt like a disappointed teen again knowing he would have little time to pursue her this weekend.

He made plans to meet with the guys on Monday to discuss the project further before he left the bar. He needed to spend some time with his mother in the morning before the suit fitting and wedding rehearsal and dinner tomorrow night. Sunday would be taken up with the wedding. These short trips home were always busy; he sighed and wondered if he could find the time to somehow manage to bump into Lara again before the wedding. Maybe he'd ask her to be his date.

*****

The bell over the bakery door tinkled, and Carly listened from the backroom as the part-time shop assistant greeted the customer in a pleasant voice but without any enthusiasm.

"Oh, I was looking for Carly Carter," Lara stammered, as the young girl with multi-coloured hair asked what she wanted.

"She's busy out the back, but I'll check," the girl said, and disappeared through the swinging door leaving Lara standing at the counter.

"Hi, Lara, I'm up to my elbows in toffee! Do you mind coming through to the kitchen?" Carly called out.

"No problem!" she responded, and let herself behind the counter and through the swinging door as Miss Multicoloured hair returned to the front of the shop. She could see why Carly couldn't move, one of the tallest croquembouche towers Lara had ever seen stood proudly on the bench as Carly whisked toffee and flicked strands onto it with the whisk. "Oh my, that's amazing!"

"I'm so glad you came. I wasn't sure you would. The party tonight should be fun, I've made some special sweet temptations for tonight. They're over there in the box if you want to have a look. It's probably safer for you over there while I'm flicking this stuff around," Carly laughed.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but between Poppy and your brother I thought it best to try to find you alone today," Lara said cautiously, nervous about asking such a big thing from someone she barely knew and who didn't know her at all.

"Talk to me about what?" Carly asked and raised an eyebrow, her face a picture of curiosity.

"I was wondering if... while it's just you here, you'd consider taking on an extra baker part-time. It's just with the holidays looming, and since your mother's away..." she asked tentatively. "I work nights at Kelly's, so I have the mornings free," then she hastened to add. "I could help you with your website as well if you like," she dangled the carrot she had found out about yesterday.

"I'd love the help on the website. But do you have experience in a bakery? I don't think it would be a problem while it's just me. God knows I could use the help. We usually have three bakers when my parents are here, but my mother is pretty territorial, so I would have to run it past her," Carly tilted her head.

"I... umm..." Lara began feeling her courage waver. "I had been learning from a pastry chef just after my modelling career took a swift change of direction." She began the well-rehearsed story. No emotion, no regrets, just the facts, she could do it. She had to do it if she wanted any chance of putting her life back together with some type of career goal that didn't involve having to fight off the drunken advances of the men at Kelly's Pub.

"Why did you stop? Learning from the pastry chef, I mean?" Carly asked. "Wasn't there any way you could have kept the place?" Carly had dreamed of attending a culinary school and learning how to be a pastry chef rather than a baker like her parents. Not that there was anything wrong with being a baker. She excelled at it, but she wanted more than cupcakes and muffins, bread and buns.

"I ran out of time and money," Lara admitted. "It was worth it, but now I have a mountain of debt, and, without the modelling career, no way of paying for any sort of school or lessons, which is why I'm here. I could really use the job, even if only for the holidays, and it would allow me to keep up my skills. The kitchen in my little apartment leaves a lot be desired, plus I have no one to bake for."

"You're planning on reapplying for an internship?" Carly asked.

"Maybe, I don't know what I want to do anymore, but it doesn't hurt to have options," she said slowly and thoughtfully. "The truth is I love to bake, it's the one thing I miss since coming home, having a lovely big kitchen and friends who always wanted yummy things for their brunches and lunches. Have you heard of Gina Izetta?" Lara paused.

"The pastry chef? Who hasn't? She's amazing! Did you see her on Master Chef last season? Who comes up with stuff like that?" Carly enthused.

"A friend of mine from the city sent me through a link to a contest. Gina is asking home cooks to send in their best sweet recipe for Valentine's Day, and, as the prize, she will publish six of them in her next book, and those six cooks will be invited to a short course with the master herself. That experience alone should get the winners an internship wherever they want." She gave an abridged version of the story. In reality, her sober sponsor had sent her the information.

"So, what? You just send her a recipe?" Carly asked.

"Recipe and step by step photos, because anyone can copy a recipe out of a book or send in their granny's recipe without having any skill in the kitchen. I think that's why she is offering the short course, so she knows the recipes she chooses are original, and the cooks have some skill."

"What do you think she would say if I sent her a chocolate penis?" Carly giggled.

"Well, to start with, she's a lesbian, so some of these lingerie chocolates might be a better option," Lara couldn't help but laugh. "How do you get so much detail on them?"

"Since there are six spots in this contest, I think we can work out a deal with the kitchen while my parents are away, if you don't mind if I send in a recipe too," Carly said. "Please?" she added hopefully. "That would be my ultimate dream, to get an internship instead of being stuck here as slave labour."

"Seriously?" Lara beamed.

"Sure, it might be fun to have another cook around to talk sugar and spice with," Carly said with a grin, already thinking about what would be her most appropriate recipe for a Valentine's Day treat. "I'd still have to run the job part past mum and dad, but you can work on your recipe here in the meantime. They'd probably be happy to know I had the help until they came back. The job would probably only be temporary though."

"That would be fabulous! Temporary or not, it would be amazing!" Lara smiled. Something was finally going right in her life, and this quirky, outspoken woman was the reason.

******

"I've heard a lot of good things about you," Paul Ashton stood from the table and stepped forward to shake Jack's hand.

"That's unusual in this town," Jack chuckled. "It's good to meet you."

"Have a seat and let's get to it, shall we?" Paul invited.

"Great," Jack said, he wasn't good with small talk, that was his brother's domain. Jack said what he meant and appreciated it when others did the same.

"There have been some great tragedies in my family, most recently that of my daughter," Paul said, and a brief flicker of pain crossed his features. "I'd already been doing the research about an operation like this and refuse to put it off any longer. I come from a long line of men who have profited off the back of the community's hard work and enterprise, and it's time for me to give back." He began.

"Several of the best known not-for-profit organisations, like the one I'm proposing, started out as part-time and grew because there was a need, not just in their own communities but those nearby. I believe there is a need in our rapidly growing community, but we aren't situated far enough inland to be considered rural, nor are we close enough to the big cities on the coast to be considered as a base of operations. The surf-lifesaving rescue helicopter service, for example, evolved into a world-class aeromedical search and rescue operation that now services several regional areas as well." He explained, showing he knew his target well.

"The rescue helicopters are an amazing outfit, we often work with them," Jack said of his own job with the governments Search and Rescue organisation.

"I want to set up our own aeromedical rescue team here, attached to the hospital, sort of a cross between care flight and the life-saver rescue helicopter. I'm willing to make the substantial initial investment and assist with fundraising each year. My wife, of course, is particularly good with event hosting for charities. We'd like you to come on board and help set this up with us. Your experience, both in the SASR and SAR, would be invaluable for making sure we have taken every contingency into consideration," Paul got to the point of this meeting.

"I can't just leave my job, and there are others far more qualified at the business side of things than me," Jack sat back in his chair, his mind working through the logistics of it all already. This community needed something like this with the number of tourists and even locals getting lost in the rainforest or worse every year. He couldn't argue that this would be an amazing asset to the town and wider community, he just wasn't sure he was the man for the job. He wasn't a desk jockey, happy to have meetings and push papers around a desk. He was a man of action who needed to do the job, not watch from the sidelines as he choreographed it.

"There probably are, but you're a local. You grew up here and know the land and the rainforest well. We aren't looking for another executive. We have enough of those involved already; we need a pilot, a man who knows what's needed for such an operation; for all elements of this operation. We have a trauma specialist, doctor and paramedic ready to come on board, what we need is someone like you," Paul said without beating around the bush. "It's the skills needed to get to the injured and get them out safely that we are out of our depth with here."

"I'm not sure my friend, here, has given you the right impression. Don't get me wrong, I love to fly, but my experience there is limited when it comes to civilian craft. I'm a pilot, sure, but these days I tend to be the guy repelling out of the helicopter into the danger zone," Jack chuckled. If other people's lives were going to be in his hands, he didn't want to pad out his resume, so to speak. He didn't mention that he was also a qualified paramedic now, because they already had one waiting in the wings.

"Look, take a few months leave from work. I'll pay you for your time, work with us, see what it is we're trying to achieve here. Then, if you want, you can go back to your job, or you can stay on as a founding member of our organisation," Paul pushed. He wanted this man on the team. He'd done his own background checks, and he knew the sort of man he was; reliable, good in a crisis, a man who could handle himself and those around him. Not to mention that he had a degree in aeronautical engineering and had recently qualified as a paramedic within his current job, which showed he was intelligent, as well as strong and capable.

"It's a lot to take in. Even if I wanted to take leave and check this project out properly I'd have to apply and have it approved, that all takes time," Jack stalled as his brain thought through all the pros and cons of the idea.

"Take some time to think about it then," Paul said, sliding a packet of information across the table to him. "Call me anytime, my details are in the folder," he tapped the packet and smiled. Paul leaned back in his chair. If this guy was even half as good as everyone said, he imagined he'd be checking the tragic losses the Ashton family had suffered recently and would have a lot more questions before he agreed to work with them.

*****

Chapter 2.

Four months later...

Jack walked into Kelly's Pub and looked around, surveying the crowd. He could see his brother and friends in their usual spot up the back near the pool table. Then his eyes searched the bar. Since seeing her here on his last trip home, he hadn't been able to get Lara Collingwood out of his mind, and he determined that this time he was going to do something about it. He spotted her, and his mouth suddenly went dry, he had faced killer seas, soul-eating bushfires, been shot at and had taken on terrorists, but talking to the one woman who had haunted his fantasies since he was a teenager seemed to unnerve him once again.

He moved into the bar slowly, it was ridiculous, he knew, he drew a breath and reminded himself that she was just a woman like any other woman. It had been ten years since his deeply hidden, long-seated infatuation with this woman in high school. Seeing her now in the dim, crowded bar shouldn't affect him at all, but it did. She'd always had the ability to steal his breath and make him feel awkward, and it seemed that hadn't diminished at all, no matter how much he wished it didn't. The fact that the place was festooned with decorations for the rapidly approaching Valentine's Day Festival that his home town took way too seriously didn't help at all.

Lara had come from behind the bar to clear the table, and he took her in from her high heeled boots, up her shapely legs encased in tight denim to her hips and the strip of bare skin that showed above her jeans and below the tank top that stopped at her belly button. He felt the stirring of desire and continued his eyes moving up over the snug tank top that bore the image of cherubic cupid surrounded by hearts and showed off her tanned shoulders to her long neck and eventually her face. She was even more beautiful than high school, he cursed, hoping it had been a trick of his imagination when he was home last.

"You're a badass," he lectured himself. "Nothing scares you," he said in his mind, but watching Lara head back to the bar he knew that wasn't true. He walked toward the bar now, still surveying her. She'd cut her hair since he was home last, and it swung just above her shoulders rather than down her back. Her face somehow seemed narrower, though she was always slim, now her cheekbones seemed more prominent and her mouth fuller. Her brown eyes flashed, and the lips parted in a small smile.