‘Absolutely. I figure all those years of pulling night duty will make this a breeze.’
Lachie took his plate of toast and his cup of coffee over to the table. ‘That’s what you think. By the way, you left your phone out on the kitchen bench and it’s rung about four times in the past hour. I was about to come and wake you up in case it’s something important.’
Hope took her phone from Lachie. The battery was almost flat. Four missed calls and a text, all from the same number. Sean, her boss. When she’d handed in her resignation, he’d begged her to reconsider and promised her there was always a job waiting. She put the phone on silent before laying it face down on the bench. When she’d told Courtney and Margot about breaking up with Brett, she hadn’t mentioned she’d also quit her job. They presumed she’d taken long service leave and she hadn’t corrected them. It was nice that Sean wanted her back, but she needed this break.
Lachie nursed his coffee cup with both hands. Dark circles rimmed his eyes.
‘Still loving your job?’ he asked.
‘Actually, I resigned.’
Lachie’s head snapped up. ‘Not because of us?’
Hope shook her head. ‘I needed a change of scenery.’
He frowned. ‘I thought you loved it at RCH.’
‘I do. I did.’ Hope’s job as a paediatric oncology nurse at the Royal Children’s Hospital in Melbourne had seemed like a dream job two years earlier, but the work was demanding both physically and mentally. ‘I love it, but some days the work gets to me. I love the kids, but the oncology side of it is depressing. I needed a break.’ It was partially the truth. Brett was the larger part of the equation.
Lachie nodded in understanding. ‘Yeah, I imagine it would. And what about you and Brett? Court told me you guys split up.’
‘Yeah. I needed a change of scenery from him too.’
Lachie raised an eyebrow.
‘It wasn’t working out,’ she said. The understatement of the century but all she was prepared to give away for now.
‘I thought you were planning on getting married.’
‘Brett was.’
Lachie tilted his head to look at her. ‘Was Brett the problem, or was the idea of marriage and staying in one place the thing that scared you?’
Hope ran her finger around the rim of her coffee mug. Lachie had always been perceptive, and although she didn’t mind him asking the tough questions, she wasn’t ready to tell anyone the real reason she’d left Brett. It was easier to just say they were two different people heading in different directions.
She put on a smile. ‘You know me, Lach. I can’t settle in one place and you’d need a rocket to get Brett to move from his cushy life in Melbourne.’ She grimaced. ‘I can’t imagine living in the same house in the same place for the rest of my life. It would kill me.’
‘You make it sound like a life sentence.’
It would have been, if she’d stayed with Brett. Or a death sentence.
Deep down Hope wanted what Lachie and Courtney shared, but she had no idea how to get it without giving in to a man and settling down in one place. The idea terrified her.
Lachie finished off his coffee before he spoke again. ‘Did Brett know you felt this way before you started going out with him?’
Hope nodded. ‘I told him that many times. He knew from day one I’m a nomad.’ She lifted a hand and let it fall. ‘Blame my parents. You know what they’re like. I lived in four countries and had twenty different addresses before I’d finished Year 12. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I had to stay in the one place for longer than a year or so.’
Lachie brushed stray toast crumbs off the table onto his plate and stood, taking his plate and empty mug to the dishwasher. ‘You make it sound like marriage is a trap.’
‘It’s not. It’s just . . .’ She let her voice trail off as she searched for the words to explain herself. ‘If I’d married Brett, I would have felt trapped. He wanted the whole marriage, nice house in a nice street with nice neighbours. He wanted to have kids, have more kids, buy an investment property, then another one. He wanted to holiday for two weeks in Bali every year then spend the rest of his holidays working around the house.’
Brett had seemed so normal and predictable when she first met him, but it was a façade she’d never noticed until it was almost too late.
‘He seemed like a nice enough guy.’
Hope pinched her lips. Brett wasn’t a nice guy. He was a control freak. If Courtney and Lachie had known the real Brett, they would have urged her to run a lot earlier. Brett’s inflexibility wasn’t the only reason she’d left him.
Lachie seemed to sense she didn’t want to say any more. ‘You know you’re welcome here as long as you need, okay?’
She smiled. ‘Thanks, Lachie, I appreciate that. But, like I said to Courtney, I won’t stay for too long. I know the saying goes that guests are like fish—they go off after three days, so I’ll be sure I don’t overstay my welcome.’
Lachlan laughed. ‘Just remember, you are family, not a guest.’ He kissed the top of her head before leaving the room.
After Lachlan left to go to the supermarket, Hope checked on Courtney and the babies. They were all sound asleep, so she let them be. The shower was going in another part of the house, which meant Margot was up also.
The tug to get out of the house and explore Macarthur Point was too hard to resist. Grabbing the keys to Courtney’s car, she left a note to say she’d gone for a drive.
Once outside, she inhaled deeply. The air was cold and heavy with the smell of more rain. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and headed for the garage. A quick drive was what she needed. Sitting still for too long was a struggle.
As she drove down the familiar roads leading from The Anchorage to the beach, she began thinking about Brett and the night she knew with hundred percent clarity she had to leave him. She’d felt like such an idiot that night. She’d been raised in countries where women were assaulted for being women and because of that she’d always been vigilant of her surroundings, never walking alone at night and always making sure people knew where she was. She thought she knew how to be careful, but she never thought the person she most needed to fear was the one she was sleeping with.
She clenched her hands around the steering wheel then released her grip. No point dwelling on the past. She’d learned that lesson early in life. Sometimes crap happened and it was best just to move on. If she focused on the past, her mistakes would hound her.
Mistake number one was believing Brett was something that he was not. She shut the door firmly on the memories and slid the bolt into place. Brett was her past and the future was in front of her. What did it matter that she had no idea what it looked like?
When she came to a crossroad, she slowed the car. If she turned left, she’d end up at the beach. If she went right, it would take her inland through the Otways which eventually opened to rolling green hills and farmland.
She chose right. The beach could wait for another day.
Some people preferred the beach, but Hope loved the mountains and the bush. She loved the way the massive gum trees grew straight and tall, side by side, the canopy of leaves fighting each other for sunshine. She also loved this part of the Victorian coastline and the way the dense bush gave way to cleared paddocks and farmland. Woodsmoke hung in the air, the way it would until mid-October. It was always a couple of degrees cooler up here.
She steered Courtney’s car carefully, mindful that it cost way more than her cheap run-around that she’d left parked outside a friend’s place in Melbourne. The road was narrow, and the edges were potholed and jagged after all the rain, and the last thing she needed was to run off the road.
She emerged from the trees at the top of the hill and neatly fenced paddocks appeared on either side of the road. Cows and sheep dotted the landscape. To her left was a large paddock which sloped up, away from the road. At the top of the paddock, near a copse of gum trees that surrounded a
farmhouse, a herd of black cattle stood, many with calves at their side. She smiled. She’d always loved black cows best.
She slowed, pulled off to the side of the road and got out. Using her phone, she snapped a few photos. Everything was so green and pretty. She spotted a lone cow, well away from the others. It kept lying down then getting up again. As it stood, turning slow circles with its tail in the air, Hope’s heart started to pound. If she wasn’t mistaken, what she was looking at was a birth sac hanging from the back of the cow. Her heart raced. How cool. She was about to see a calf being born.
She got as close to the fence as she could, but far enough away so as not to scare the cow. An icy wind whipped across the paddocks, scattering leaves and branches along the road and she shivered. Setting her phone to video mode, she waited, ready to capture the moment the calf was born. After watching for a few minutes, she frowned. Not that she knew a single thing about calving, but the cow was bellowing and turning in circles as if it was in distress.
She stopped videoing, opened a web browser on her phone and searched for signs and symptoms of a cow about to give birth. There was so much conflicting advice that she gave up. Better to call a vet. She searched for local vet clinics and called the first number that popped up.
‘Macarthur Point Animal Hospital.’
She didn’t bother to introduce herself. ‘There’s a cow giving birth and she looks like she’s in trouble.’
‘Where?’ the man asked.
‘Gellibrand Road at the top of Lavers Hill.’ Hope looked around, searching for anything that would identify exactly where she was. There were no street numbers out here. To her right was a gate leading to another property. ‘I’m parked at the farm opposite the entrance to Chapel Vale. It’s . . .’
‘I know Chapel Vale. I’m about half an hour away.’
‘Hurry.’
Hope pocketed her phone and went back to the car to sit and wait in the warmth. She glanced down at her canvas sneakers. She wasn’t dressed for traipsing around paddocks but there was no way she wanted to miss this, so she did a U-turn and drove quickly back home. With any luck she could get there and back, and not miss the birth.
Chapter 6
So much for a weekend off.
Mitchell ended the phone call and looked at his watch. Not even eight o’clock in the morning. He hadn’t slept well because his dreams had been inhabited by Hope Rossi. He sighed as he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on his work overalls. It would be a long day if he couldn’t stop thinking about her. At least a call out to a calving cow would keep his mind occupied.
Since taking over the clinic, he could count on the fingers of one hand how many work-free weekends he’d enjoyed. Today he’d been looking forward to working on his house and maybe even going for a surf later if the weather held out. Although it was cold, the sun was out, and it would be warmish in the water. He glanced out his bedroom window at the ocean. The water was a soft, dreamy green and the waves were textbook perfect for surfing. Disappointment seeped in, but he pushed it aside.
The call he’d just taken was from an anonymous Good Samaritan about a cow in labour. The woman said she’d been driving past a local farm and spotted a cow in difficulty. His was the only clinic with a 24-hour emergency phone number which is why the call had come through to him on his day off.
Some days he regretted his decision to be available all times of the day and night, but it was better than knowing an animal might be in pain for hours until the clinic opened at eight. At least he didn’t have to go back into town to get any equipment. Since the first time he’d been called out and discovered how unprepared he was, he’d kept his Jeep well stocked and ready to tackle any potential situation that might arise.
After making a few phone calls he worked out who owned the cow. Len Bennett. A cantankerous old bugger who didn’t take kindly to people sticking their nose in his business. Great. This would be interesting.
As he backed out of the garage, he saw Jordan’s car coming down the driveway. He waited until Jordan pulled alongside him then wound down his window.
‘Where are you off to so early?’ Jordan asked.
‘I’m heading out to see a man about a cow in labour. Wanna come?’
‘Now?’ Jordan stared longingly towards the water for a second and Mitchell followed his gaze, knowing how he felt.
‘All right. Why not? Wasn’t planning on doing much else today other than seeing if you had time for a surf. But I guess the cow in labour can’t wait.’
Mitchell waited for Jordan to park his car and grab his jacket. When he jumped into Mitchell’s car, Mitch took off with a spin of tyres on the gravel.
‘What’s the address?’ Jordan asked after closing the front gate and getting back in the car.
Mitchell gave him the address and Jordan entered it into the GPS.
‘Should take about half an hour I reckon,’ he said.
Twenty-five minutes later they pulled down a long gravel driveway. There was no sign of the Good Samaritan or her car. No doubt she was a tourist on her way somewhere, but at least she’d called it in.
In the distance, a man waved his red plaid shirt in the air to get Mitchell’s attention. Mitchell headed towards the open gate. The closer they got, the more he had to stifle a laugh. Len Bennett’s naked, hairy chest was blinding in the pale sunlight. His belly hung over a thick leather belt which held up a pair of cut-off faded denim jeans and he had thongs on his feet. Hardly appropriate farm attire and certainly not appropriate given the fact the temperature was less than ten degrees.
Mitchell drove through the gate, pulled on the handbrake, and hit the button to open his window. Len shuffled across, his face flushed as if he’d been running a marathon. His pupils were dilated, and the stench of alcohol blew into the cabin of the car.
‘Lucky neither of us smoke,’ Jordan muttered from the passenger seat.
‘You the vet doc?’ Len asked.
‘That’s right. Mitchell Davis.’
‘Youz kind of young,’ Len slurred.
Mitchell was used to hearing that. ‘I’m nearly forty but I guess some people would consider me young.’ Some people like Len who looked almost three times Mitchell’s age.
Len spat on the ground. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Bein’ young is good. I was young once too. I was worried old Ian would show up. He’d blow over in a stiff breeze.’ He put his arm up to lean into the side of Mitchell’s truck and missed, dropping to one knee in the mud.
Mitchell put a hand on the door handle, ready to spring into action. Speaking of blowing over. Who was the patient? The man or his cow? He and Jordan exchanged a look.
‘You okay?’ Jordan asked.
Coughing and spluttering, Len righted himself and brushed muddy hands down the legs of his already filthy pants.
‘You seem a little unsteady,’ Mitchell said as he got out of the car.
‘I’m fine.’ Len waved a hand in Mitchell’s direction. ‘Got this blood pressure problem, that’s all. Anyways, why you here again?’
Mitchell glanced at Jordan again before he turned back to Les. ‘Someone called and said you have a cow in labour.’
Len spat on the ground again. ‘Oh, yeah. She’s out there in the paddock. Calf’s half stickin’ out of her. Amazing she can still walk. But I warn youz. She’s a mean bitch. We’ll have to rope ‘er.’
Mitchell looked at Jordan’s face and tried to stifle his laughter.
‘I did not sign up for this,’ Jordan said through gritted teeth. Just remember I work with humans, not animals.’
Mitchell shrugged. ‘Stay in the car if you want. I would hate to see you get hurt.’
Jordan flipped him the bird along with a grin as he got out of the car. ‘You know me, always up for something new. How hard can this be? I’ve delivered dozens of babies.’
Mitchell smiled. Giving Jordan a challenge worked every time. ‘Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can go for a surf.’
They
headed over to Len, who was now leaning against a timber post and rail fence, sweat pouring down his face.
Jordan frowned at him. ‘You sure you’re okay?’ he asked.
Len ignored him and turned to Mitchell. ‘You ever roped a cow, son?’
‘Once or twice,’ Mitchell lied.
Jordan spluttered and Mitchell flashed him a look.
‘Yeah right. Did they teach that in vet school?’ Jordan muttered. ‘I’ll bet you don’t have a clue how to catch a cow. You certainly don’t know how to catch a woman.’
Mitchell returned the bird and grabbed his bag from the back of his truck. ‘Come on,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go rope ourselves a cow.’
‘No need,’ Len said. ‘I was a champ in me day. I’ll rope ‘er. Youz go on ‘round back of ‘er and get her headed me way.’ He picked up a rope off the ground and began winding it into large loops in his calloused hands. Despite his attire and the alcoholic haze haloing around his head, he seemed to know what he was doing so Mitchell didn’t intervene.
‘You heard the man, mate,’ Jordan said, tipping his imaginary cowboy hat. ‘Come on. Let’s go find this cow.’
They made their way into the paddock, walking slowly in a wide loop so they ended up behind the cow without frightening her.
‘Jeez, are they legs hanging out of her?’ Jordan asked when they got close enough. His tone had switched from humour to concern.
Mitchell turned to him. He looked pale. ‘Do not tell me you’re going to faint.’
‘I’ll be right,’ Jordan assured him.
Mitchell clapped his hands and the cow started moving towards Len, much faster than Mitchell expected given her current situation. When she lowered her head and rushed towards Len, a gory scenario flashed before Mitchell’s eyes. ‘Watch out, Len,’ he shouted. The last thing they needed was for anyone to get hurt.
Eyes closed, Len spun the rope in slow circles above his head. He looked like he was in a trance.
Holding onto Hope Page 5
