Climbing Fear

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Climbing Fear Page 11

by Leisl Leighton


  Chapter 9

  Reid watched Natalia as she strode towards him, faded denim jeans caressing her hips and thighs, a soft green t-shirt shaping her body, an old straw cowboy hat perched on her head. For a moment he thought he’d flashed back in time, seeing her coming towards him, the open smile she’d always had for him until he’d pushed things and ruined everything. Except, she wasn’t smiling at him, she was smiling at Tilly, her hand on her daughter’s shoulder as the young girl looked up at her, chattering away about something. They looked so happy, so right together, a family of two. For a staggering moment, he wished he was a part of that family, making it a three.

  Where the hell had that thought come from? He needed to get a grip. That kiss had affected him more than he liked. He shook his head a little, ridding himself of the insane thought. He couldn’t be a husband, a dad. He could barely look after himself and he didn’t even want to think about the state of his business. There was no way he could cope with more. Could he?

  No. What was he thinking?

  ‘Hey, Reid,’ Tilly said as she ran up to him, a bright smile on her face.

  ‘Hey, Tills.’

  She wrapped her arms around him for a hug. His arms went around her, a strange warmth filling his chest and he couldn’t help smiling as she leaned back and looked up at him, eyes full of trust.

  ‘I’m ready to learn the ropes.’

  ‘Good. There’s lots to do. Although we’ll have to leave Bos in the barn. He’s too old to come on the ute. He fell off last time.’

  ‘Oh. Did he get hurt?’ She let go of him to cup the old dog’s head, kissing him. ‘Poor Bozzy.’

  ‘No, he’s a tough old thing, but we don’t want to take a chance. Bos, in the barn.’ The dog stared at him with speaking eyes then turned, head hanging low, and plodded off slowly to the barn.

  ‘He looks sad,’ Tilly said.

  Reid shook his head, chuckling. ‘He’ll get over it. Come on, the ute’s the other side of the barn. I’ve already loaded it up with the feed we’ll need.’

  ‘Everything okay?’ Nat asked when Tilly ran ahead of them to the ute as they rounded the barn.

  He almost tripped. Was she worried about him after the kiss? Or maybe she was just worried about the kiss. So was he. He went to say as much when she said, ‘You looked strange when she hugged you. I’ll tell her not to do that if you don’t like it.’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine.’ Okay, so not worried about him or the kiss. She’d obviously decided to ignore what had happened between them. Fine. Good. So would he. He rubbed his fist against his chest, pulled the key for the ute out of his pocket and twirled it around his finger. Casual. Just be casual. ‘I like how open she is.’

  ‘She likes you and trusts you.’

  ‘Good. I like her too.’

  She graced him with a small smile. ‘I’m glad.’ She was about to move on when he caught her arm.

  ‘Nat? I don’t know what happened to you, but if there’s anything I can do to help you or Tilly, then let me know. If I can handle anything for you, just tell me, okay?’

  ‘Riding to my rescue, Reid?’ She glanced at him, the fire in her eyes catching the breath in his chest. ‘I don’t need rescuing.’

  ‘I know. You never did.’

  She blinked hard and looked down. ‘I’m not sure that’s true.’ She looked up again, her gaze going to her daughter as she ran after the chickens who were loose in the yard, her shrieks of laughter joy in the air. ‘But it’s going to be from now on.’

  He watched her, wondering if he should push further about her past, but then they were at the ute and she called out to Tilly to jump in. He opened the door and Tilly climbed inside taking the middle seat then Nat got in after her daughter.

  He closed the door, her scent in his nose—that tantalising fresh scent, spicy and warm, yet also sweet like strawberries in the sun. He took a deep breath, trying to fill himself with the smells of the farm, hay, horses, manure, the rust of the old plough that stood on this side of the stables, a relic of a harder time, but it didn’t work. The scent seemed to have already worked its way into his system. As had her touch. The imprint of her fingers on his chest, in his hair, the soft press of her lips against his, filling him with something more than warmth. In that moment everything that was wrong with his life went flying away and he felt as he used to feel when he made a climb and stood at the top of a mountain and was, for that moment, free of all human constraints, all worries, all fears and pain. Kissing her, being touched by her, had been that and more.

  Bloody hell.

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he rounded the ute, trying to force his thoughts from thinking about her. Her touch. The way she smelled.

  Shit. He’d been through this after he left her this morning. He couldn’t let himself feel like this, like that young besotted boy he’d once been. He’d done so much, been through even more, and had come out the other side a much different person than the young, gung-ho boy he’d once been. The one who’d laugh at anything, who couldn’t wait to get up in the morning, who never stood still for more than a second. And Nat …

  Well, she was all he remembered and more. But he’d also sensed something else—a lack? A loss? She’d always been so confident, but going by what she’d said, how she’d acted, confidence was a garment she was struggling to fit into once more. It had been difficult as a teenage boy coming up against that confidence. Only his burgeoning ego had seen him make the jump over that wall. Now that lack of confidence was an even thicker wall, a mountain even, that could be impossible to climb.

  He and Luke had done seven of the eight major peaks. He’d scaled Everest. But as he climbed into the ute and started it up, Tilly bouncing excitedly at his side, he knew that the mountain of Nat’s past, her reluctance, everything that was stopping her from leaping at life like she’d once done, was one mountain he shouldn’t even try to crest. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of doing it, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

  What he could do, was help her through whatever difficulty she’d found herself in. His psychologist would probably call it a superhero complex—he couldn’t turn away from someone in need of rescuing. And it certainly seemed like Nat needed rescuing from the demons of her past at least. Besides which, dealing with her problems would be easier than dealing with his own.

  First, he had to find out what had happened to her. Asking outright didn’t seem the thing, although, maybe he could find out by just asking the right questions and listening in the right way.

  As the ute jerked and bumped along the paddock to the first gate, Nat said, ‘I thought we were bringing in the mob for this afternoon’s ride.’

  ‘We’ve got time to put out the others now, so we’ll do that first. That okay?’

  ‘Fine by me. You, Tilly?’

  ‘By me too.’

  They drove in silence as they manoeuvred onto the dirt road that joined all the gates in each of the main paddocks, the creak and groan of the ute filling the silence. As the ride smoothed out when they reached the dirt road, Tilly asked him, ‘What was your favourite thing about doing your show with Luke, Reid?’

  ‘Tilly,’ Nat said quietly. ‘Reid might not want to talk about that.’

  ‘No, that’s okay. Luke was a big part of my life. I want to talk about him.’ Although, that hadn’t been true up until now. Most people avoided the subject and he’d been happy to let them. But for some reason, he was happy to talk about Luke with Tilly and Nat. He leaned his arm against the windowsill, driving one handed, the wind ruffling his hair. ‘I think it was the times when we sat down with the local people and listened to their stories, their histories.’

  ‘Yeah, I always liked that part of the show.’

  He smiled. ‘Did you? I’m glad. Luke insisted on doing those segments. I was too impatient for it at first. The chase for the adrenaline made it hard for me to settle, no matter where we were. I used to pace around or check and re-check our gear or just wander
around, aimless, without really looking at our surroundings let alone feeling the impact of the mysteries and the histories of where we were.’

  ‘What changed? You were always there with Luke in the shows I saw.’

  He glanced over at Nat, surprised to hear that question from her. He’d got the impression she never watched the show. ‘Not in the first season I wasn’t,’ he said slowly before turning back to watch where he was driving. ‘Those segments were his. But yeah, there was a change.’ He pulled up at the first gate. ‘Hold on, I just need to open this.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Nat said, hopping out before he had a chance to remind her how to do it, although he needn’t have worried—she handled the latch and pulled the gate into the next paddock like a pro.

  ‘Leave it,’ he said through the open window as they drove forward at a crawl. ‘We’re going to have to drive the mob back through here after we’ve fed out the hay.’ Most of them would just come through anyway when they saw feed going out, but there was always the odd stray that needed a bit of g-ing up to get them through the gate and into the other paddock.

  Horses were already lifting their heads and trotting over in anticipation of the feed coming their way and he saw through the rear-vision mirror that some had already begun to follow them through the gate.

  He was about to lean out the window again to remind her how to secure the gate so it stayed open, but she was already doing it, tying the heavy steel gate with the blue twine that was left on the fence. Impressed, he slowed down so she could catch up. She swung into the cabin with the same balletic grace that had caught his attention all those years ago and flashed him a smile, her face lightly flushed. God, she was beautiful. How could he have forgotten the impact of her smile on him?

  ‘So go on,’ she said, her gaze meeting his, almost in challenge. ‘You were telling us about when you joined Luke for those segments with the locals.’

  He broke her gaze and looked forward, wrists hooked over the steering wheel. ‘Oh yeah. I suppose it was just before we did the K2 climb. We were stopped at a small village for the night on the trek to Base Camp. Luke wanted to chat to the elders in the village. There was a fire pit that they sat around and shared stories and knowledge with the villagers and visitors. Luke, as usual, told me I was an idiot for not staying and learning something from people who lived closer to nature than we ever would. He always went on about the wisdom of the land and those who worked on it and lived in it. To me, having been brought up on a farm, it just sounded like naturalist rubbish, but for some reason that night, surrounded by the shadows of the ancient mountains, I listened and heard something different.’ He gripped the steering wheel tighter, images of that night still so clear in his minds-eye. ‘I sat and I listened to these remarkable people, learning from the lines on their faces, the smiles in their eyes, the generosity of their souls, things I’d never thought of before. There was a connection there between them and the environment they lived in. I suddenly understood what Luke had been going on about and I was disappointed with myself for having missed out all those years on one of the most important aspects of what we did. It changed things for me, made me respect the land, culture, differences. I realised as I watched the sparks fly into the sky that life was as fleeting as those sparks and that the only impact anyone could truly make that will have any significance is in how we treat others and the planet. I wanted to be like those people, kind and open-hearted and willing to open my mind to all the experiences of life.’

  Silence met his words and he glanced sideways again to see both Tilly and Nat staring at him. He chuckled self-consciously, cheeks heating despite the freshness of the morning air coming through the open window. ‘Sorry, got a bit deep there.’

  Nat shook her head slowly. ‘No. It was lovely. What an amazing revelation.’

  His lips crooked into a smile. ‘Yeah. It was a revelation.’

  ‘Do you still feel that way? After all that’s happened?’

  He frowned, fingers aching as he gripped the wheel tighter. He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t really thought about it in those terms before, but it was a good question. A hard one. More than he wanted to answer in any depth, so he simply said, ‘I want to. I hope so.’

  They’d reached the next gate and he stopped before it. Nat was staring at him. He shifted, tapped his fingers on the wheel. ‘Are you getting this one, or am I?’

  She blinked then looked forward. ‘I will. Leave it open?’

  ‘Yeah. We’ve got followers.’ He nodded behind them and she turned to look. The smile that bloomed on her face as she saw the mob behind them, made the cold that had constricted his chest melt away to be replaced by a buzzing warmth.

  ‘Why are they following us?’ Tilly asked, body twisted around so she could look through the back window.

  ‘They want to be fed.’ Nat got out of the ute and ran to open the gate, her stride as sure as ever even over the hoof-potted turf. He drove forward as she pushed the gate open and tied it to the fence, then jumped into the back of the ute where the bales of hay were stacked. ‘We feeding all this out?’ she yelled.

  ‘Yes, but don’t start until we’re halfway across the paddock. I want to make sure they all come in.’

  ‘Sure.’

  They bumped across the rough turf of the dry paddock. When they were halfway across, he turned to yell out the back to Nat to tell her she could find a knife in the toolbox at the front of the tray, but saw she’d already found it and was deftly cutting the tough hay bane. She straddled the bale, dug her hands into it to loosen the tightly packed hay, and then began to feed it out in big clumps. Her ponytail swung heavily over her shoulder as hay rose around her, little strands sticking in the thick mass. Her t-shirt rode up a little as she worked giving him a glimpse of her slightly rounded stomach. She leaned over and he couldn’t help admiring her bottom, encased in faded denim jeans that looked like they’d be soft to the touch. His mouth watered and he shifted uncomfortably on the seat. Jesus. He was going to get an erection just by watching her work.

  ‘What’s Mum doing?’

  His gaze darted to Tilly who had shifted onto her knees to look through the back window. He shifted again, thankful for her presence and the bucket of cold water it represented to his over-eager system. ‘She’s cut the hay bane and is now feeding the hay out to the horses. See, the horses who followed us are already eating and the rest should notice and follow pretty quickly.’

  ‘What do you do if they don’t?’

  ‘We’ll ride herd on them.’ Her confused look made him laugh. ‘Sorry. I should stop using farm-speak.’

  ‘No, I want to know. If I’m going to live here, I need to know this stuff, right?’

  ‘Very true.’ And a very mature and astute statement for her age. He’d have to be careful around her, that was for certain, because there was no knowing what she might pick up. ‘Okay, what I mean is we’ll chase them down in the ute and herd them towards the gate. Worse comes to worst, we’ve got oats in the back and we can entice them with that if they’re not interested in the hay your mum’s feeding out. But most of the horses know the routine and there shouldn’t be any trouble getting them into the paddock to eat and rest. It’s getting the ones to come in that we want for the ride this afternoon that can prove a challenge. Most of the horses like the work and come happily enough, but some are just cantankerous and stubborn and we might have to chase them in.’

  ‘Does that hurt them?’

  ‘No. We’d never hurt our horses. They’re our partners in this business and we treat them with care and respect. We feed them well, check them over after every ride and give them a wash, not just a brush down, we rotate them so that they’re not on the trail all the time and get a good mix of exercise and rest. They get all their shots and are flea and tick treated and we have our own farrier who does regular checks on their shoes and hoof health. We check all of our tack every week to make sure it’s not going to rub or cause any issues and if they are hurt or have a bruised back
from someone riding them too hard, or if they get gall, then we rest them up until they’re well.’

  He slowed the ute, having seen in the rear-vision mirror that Nat had finished feeding out the bales of hay and was ready to jump down and join them in the cab.

  ‘They’re all in,’ she said, pointing to the last stragglers coming through the gate heading towards the food as she swung back onto the bench seat next to Tilly. ‘Where to next?’

  ‘We’ll close the gate to keep them in and then go to get the fresh lot.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Moments later, after the gates were secured and they were on their way down the sloping track to the bottom of the creek paddock, he looked across Tilly’s head at Nat. She sat comfortably, smiling widely as she looked out towards the horses and the view. Her arm rested against the open windowsill and she rocked from side to side with the movement of the ute, her hair blowing in the breeze, tangling across her neck and shoulders. His fingers tingled, remembering the feel of those silken strands.

  He sighed, looked forward, but then moments later, found himself glancing at her again. She looked completely at home; like she’d never been away. She’d always seemed to belong here, which had made it so surprising when she’d gone away and stayed away; where-else, he had always longed to get away and so nobody was shocked when he had taken the first opportunity offered to him.

  She turned her head as if aware on some deep level that he was staring at her. Their eyes caught and an expression crossed her face that made his breath hitch in his throat. But before he could revel in it, it was gone. ‘So, what were you and Reid talking about while I was feeding out the hay?’ She smiled down at Tilly.

  ‘He was telling me about how you look after the horses.’

  ‘Was he? What did he say?’

  ‘About feeding them and resting them and washing them and checking things and the gore.’

  ‘Gore?’ Nat’s brow furrowed as she glanced up at him.

  ‘I think she means gall.’

 

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