She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets and moved on past the stone facade of the bank. At least they still had a bank, unlike a lot of other small country towns. A few leaves swirled at her feet as she made her way along the footpath towards the cafe, which was definitely open judging by the number of cars parked out the front and the colourful banner that fluttered in the brisk morning breeze above the tables and chairs set on the edge of the footpath. Laura’s first job of the day after clearing up the breakfast dishes had been to run her mother’s teaching notes in to the school. Her mum had also left a list of top-up vegies to buy at the supermarket. But first a real coffee.

She reached for the door handle just as the door flew open. She smiled. The guy with the surprised look smiled back.

“Laura, hello,” he said.

“Hi, Owen. In for a caffeine hit?”

“Sure am.”

Another bloke came up behind Owen, wanting to get out. They both stepped to one side. Owen peered over her shoulder. “On your own?”

“Yep.” She grinned. “Bree’s on shed duties. Mum’s away. There’s still mustering to be done and the boss-man has us all on a roster. Are you coming out for a meal this week?” Laura wasn’t sure how often her sister met up with her boyfriend. “I’m in charge of food so you may wish to back out if you are.”

“Sounds like your dad might appreciate another male at the table.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Laura gave him a cheeky grin and Owen laughed. She could see why Bree liked him – besides his good looks Laura got the impression he was also fun. One of the downsides to returning home would be the shortage of guys.

“I’ve got a busy week ahead. I’ll let Bree know which night I can come out.”

“Great.” Laura watched him saunter away, then turned and walked smack-bang into another man coming out of the coffee shop. His cup squashed against his chest and a brown stain spread across his white shirt and deepened the blue of his tie before the takeaway cup fell to the ground at their feet, splattering his shiny black lace-up shoes.

“I’m so sorry,” she wailed, flailing pathetically at the fabric as he tried to tug it away from his skin. “Are you scalded?”

“No.” He had the shirt between his fingers now, flapping it in and out. “Milk coffee. Not too hot.”