Fliss only nodded. She didn’t want her reply to break the bond forming between Hewitt and the neglected dog.
‘Okay,’ he said, after he ruffled the border collie’s neck, ‘I’m going to check your babies and then we’ll make you all more comfortable.’
Hewitt placed a hand on each of the small bodies tucked against their mother. ‘All good. They’re warm and their tummies are full.’
He gave the border collie a last pat and when he returned to the doorway, Fliss passed him the towels and the torch. After Hewitt had created a soft nest that would be cosier than the canvas cover, he placed a water and food bowl close by. The dog licked the back of Hewitt’s hand before lapping at the water. Her thirsty gulps filled the silence.
Emotions close to the surface, Fliss looked away. Hewitt’s magic didn’t only work on anxious, displaced city girls. He had made the abandoned dog feel safe, too.
Hewitt left the shed. The stables’ sensor light had clicked off and the waning torch provided the only source of light. A gust of wind engulfed her and she raked her fingers through her hair to drag windblown strands from off her forehead. A drop of rain wet her lip. She touched the spot with her tongue.
Hewitt crossed his arms. In the gloom she couldn’t gauge his expression but his rigid stance told her their easy companionship had dissolved. Gone was the relaxed man who’d laughed at the barbeque and who’d bonded with the border collie. Hewitt was again the grave, guarded man who’d arrived, his emotions firmly held in check. His injury had to be bothering him.
If she had a chance, she’d run her fingers over the top of his shoulder to feel if the bones were misaligned. She was sure he’d done his AC joint. She tightened her grip on the torch handle. The idea of touching Hewitt, even in the context of assessing his injury, shouldn’t make her pulse flutter.
She thought he stared at her mouth but then a jagged splinter of lightning flashed low in the sky to her left.
‘Thanks for your help,’ she said, as a cold drop of rain splashed her nose. ‘I’ll call Ella first thing. Hopefully our new mother will have a microchip to let us know who she belongs to.’
‘Anytime. And I’m sure she will. Someone will be looking for her.’ He unfolded his arms. ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Night.’
Large raindrops splattered the hard plastic of the torch and caught in the thin beam. The heavens were about to rip open. Glad of the distraction, she jogged towards the house. She couldn’t trust that the darkness would hide her expression. For a dangerous moment her face would have revealed that the prospect of seeing Hewitt tomorrow had made her feel something other than anxiety. It’d been a long time coming, but she’d again felt hope.
Lizzie’s excited squeal reminded Hewitt he needed to lower the volume on his laptop whenever his niece talked to him over the internet. In contrast, he had to increase the volume whenever Quinn sat still long enough to chat.
‘You found six puppies in the shed?’ Lizzie’s auburn curls bounced as she wriggled on the kitchen chair, her grey eyes appearing even brighter through the laptop camera. ‘What are their names?’
‘Fliss found them and we haven’t named them yet.’
‘You haven’t?’ Shock rounded Lizzie’s mouth. ‘That’s okay. I’ll help you.’
Lizzie’s sweet and generous heart never failed to make his own clench. He’d do everything he could to ensure his precious niece lived the happy and stable life she deserved. ‘Thanks. You know I need all the help I can get.’
‘I know. I love you, Uncle Hewy, but you can’t call a kitten Tiger. Snowball’s white.’
A freckled face popped up behind Lizzie as Quinn stuck his tongue out at the camera. Full of cheek and energy, what he didn’t say in words, he said through actions. He shared his twin sister’s red hair and grey eyes and if not for their Sinclair surnames, Hewitt would never have been picked as their uncle. A green and yellow tractor blurred on the screen as he pretended to drive the small toy above his sister’s head.
‘Hi, Quinn,’ Hewitt said above his nephew’s tractor noises.
‘Hi.’ Quinn replied with a single word and then disappeared from the computer screen.
Lizzie, used to talking for her brother, filled the sudden quiet. ‘He’s missing you and wants to know when you’re coming home.’
Hewitt kept his voice light. ‘I miss you guys, too. I’ll be home as soon as my shoulder’s okay. Has your surprise arrived yet? It should be in the next lot of mail.’
Lizzie’s curls bounced again. ‘Is it a pony?’
This time Hewitt didn’t have to pretend to be upbeat. Lizzie’s love of life always kept the shadows at bay. ‘No. Dave mightn’t quite be able to fit a pony in his mail van.’
‘He can if it’s a toy.’
‘True. But this surprise is something you eat.’
Quinn appeared on the screen. From the gleam in his grey eyes, he’d worked out the parcel would contain lollies. Hewitt spoke before Quinn disappeared.
‘How’s your sandpit?’
‘Good.’
The sandpit was the first thing he’d built in the bleak, brutal days following Brody’s funeral. Quinn had never left his side and the golden sand had absorbed all their silent tears. ‘Have you flooded it?’
Lizzie rolled her eyes. ‘Yes. Three times. He made such a mess.’
Hewitt winked at Quinn. His flooding of the sandpit would happen anytime Lizzie pulled rank and played the bossy elder sister.
Quinn gave him a wave before the five-year-old vanished from view. A soft voice sounded and Lizzie came to her feet to allow Ava to sit on the chair. Lizzie settled onto her mother’s lap. Ava smoothed her daughter’s curls before resting her cheek on her head and folding her arms around her. Ava’s hair might be blonde, and her eyes blue, but mother and daughter shared the same heart-shaped face.
Except Ava was half the size of what she used to be. Since she’d become a widow she’d lost all interest in anything but her children. Guilt clawed its way across his shoulders.
‘Had much rain over there, Hewitt?’
‘It’s so wet even the ducks are complaining.’
Lizzie giggled. ‘Jemima would be happy. She keeps trying to swim in the dogs’ water bowls.’
Hewitt nodded. ‘I’m sure she forgets she’s a duck.’
Lizzie’s white pet duck had a whole dam to swim in but preferred to stay close to the house where she had the company of the two silkie hens.
Ava smiled. ‘I’m sure she does. Your mum’s in town and your dad’s … resting.’
‘That’s great Mum’s gone to town.’
Hewitt didn’t want to say anything more in front of Lizzie but his mother had only just started leaving the house and farm again.
‘It is. And I’ve been going in too. I’ve also sent my mum home.’ Ava paused. ‘Hewitt … Garnet’s missing you.’
He didn’t speak, only rubbed the back of his neck. The thought of riding hollowed out his gut. There were too many memories associated with being in Garnet’s saddle. The creak of leather and the scent of horse and dust would only take him back to the moment when Brody lay prone on the ground. A moment forever branded in his soul.
Ava spoke again. ‘I know your shoulder needs to heal, but if you want me to bring her over, the kids and I could go for a road trip.’
‘Thanks. I’ll let you know.’
Through the stables’ window he caught movement from over near the garden shed. Fliss was awake and checking on their unexpected guests.
He blew Lizzie a kiss. ‘I’ll sign off now and will call tomorrow to talk about puppy names. I hope your surprise arrives today.’ He raised his voice. ‘Bye, Quinn.’ From somewhere to the left of the screen he caught a muffled, ‘Bye, Uncle Hewy.’
Ava gave him a wave, while Lizzie blew kisses with both her hands, then the screen went black.
Hewitt released a tight breath. The daily internet calls didn’t get easier. He missed the twins so much. But he’d sooner break
another bone than not talk to them every day. He scraped a hand over his face. The morning’s testing of his emotions wasn’t over yet.
Last night, surrounded by darkness and the fragrance of the lemon-scented gum, his defences had weakened. When Fliss slid her fingers through her heavy hair and touched her tongue to the raindrop on her bottom lip, attraction had kicked deep within him. All he’d been able to think about was pulling her close and covering her mouth with his. It’d taken all his willpower to keep his hands jammed beneath his crossed arms.
She was so beautiful he lost all perspective. It couldn’t happen again. She already affected him far more than she should. His needs, his wants, even his future, were no longer important. His focus had to be on getting himself together so he could get back to taking care of the people who depended on him. He stood on stiff legs and massaged his aching shoulder. Today was another day closer to achieving his goal.
He left the bluestone stables to the sound of a kookaburra celebrating the sunshine breaking through the thick cloud cover. The storm last night had saturated the already waterlogged ground but today promised to be fine and dry.
Fliss turned to watch him approach. The vivid cherry-red of her shirt reflected warmth into her face and showcased the glossy coffee-brown of her hair.
‘Morning.’ Her greeting was cheerful.
‘Morning.’ He stopped beside her and blanked out the subtle scent of gardenias. ‘How did everyone sleep?’
‘I think they slept well. Your casserole’s gone and the puppies are snuggled close to their mum.’
Fliss took her phone from out of her jeans pocket. ‘Cressy wants a photo to share on the lost dog social media groups and to make a flyer.’ Fliss snapped some quick shots before speaking again. ‘Ella’s on her way and will bring a microchip scanner.’
‘Great.’ Hewitt looked at the container Fliss had placed on the ground near the doorway. ‘Breakfast?’
‘Yes. Ella suggested I mix up some porridge with raw eggs.’ Fliss bent to pick up the oats. The border collie wagged her tail. ‘The thought of which turns my stomach but is obviously just what our new mum wants.’
Fliss entered the shed. Trust shone in the border collie’s brown eyes as Fliss placed her breakfast within reach. Instead of eating, the border collie whined and attempted to nuzzle Fliss’s hand. She hesitated, then moved closer to pat her.
Hewitt watched the emotions flit across Fliss’s face. Caution and worry were followed by uncertainty. When the border collie playfully batted Fliss’s arm with her paw, the tight line of Fliss’s shoulders relaxed. She laughed softly. ‘Oh, I see. You like pats even more than oats.’
Hewitt’s heart warmed. The confidence Fliss had lost hadn’t only affected her professional life, it continued to erode the foundations of her personal life. Her anxiety was unrelenting and ever-present. He could see it in the way she avoided driving in the mud, in the way she’d bite her lip when looking for snakes and in the nervous intensity of her eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. But now, in this moment, as she and the border collie got to know each other, there was no self-doubt, just an uncomplicated connection.
A loud moo sounded and he turned to scan the undulating green hills. A cow had been close to calving last night and he hoped it wasn’t her call he heard. Fliss came to his side, a smile still curving her lips.
‘Everything okay?’
‘I hope so. Otherwise Ella might find she’s come to do more than scan Bundara’s mystery guest.’ He swung around to retrace his steps to the bluestone stables. ‘I’ll go check the cattle.’
‘I’ll come.’ Fliss fell into step beside him. ‘I can get the gates.’
The drive to the cattle paddock passed in silence. After the night’s rain Hewitt concentrated on driving on the wet track, while Fliss kept a close eye on her phone and the cattle around them.
When they drew near to the steel yards, Hewitt didn’t need to drive any further. The cow he’d seen yesterday with the full bag of milk and who had isolated herself from the herd didn’t have a calf curled up in the grass beside her. Instead, as she turned, he caught sight of a calf’s foot. The cow had started to calve but the second stage of labour hadn’t progressed smoothly.
‘I’ll let Ella know,’ Fliss said quietly.
Hewitt left the ute to open the gate of the cattle yards. He then drove behind a group of three cows grazing nearby. Used to vehicles driving around them, they ambled in the direction Hewitt wanted them to go. The cow having difficulty calving would be happier, and be easier to put into the yards, if she had company. When the small herd met up with the lone cow, he directed them along the fence line. He stopped when the black bodies milled inside the steel yards. Fliss went to close the gate. She checked her phone as she walked over to where he’d parked.
‘Ella’s not far away and said she’ll come straight to the yards.’
He grabbed a bucket from the ute trayback. ‘She’ll need water. I’ll fill this, then put the cow in the race.’
When he returned from the trough, Fliss had entered the yards and opened the internal gates leading to the circular race. Despite all the years she’d spent in the city, she still knew her way around a set of cattle yards. Hewitt nodded his thanks and avoided meeting her eyes. Even though he’d carried the water bucket on his right side, his injured shoulder burned.
Working quietly, and avoiding the calving cow’s flight zone, he cut her out of the small herd. She walked up to the end of the narrow race and he secured her head in the head bail so Ella could take a look at her.
‘You made that look easy,’ Fliss said as he exited the yards. ‘I don’t remember it being so peaceful when Dad worked cattle. Cressy and I learned a whole new vocabulary when we first saw him load cattle into trucks.’
‘Thank Cressy. Her cattle are used to low stress handling and this means the low stress part also applies to the people working them.’
Their conversation lulled as the Woodlea Veterinary Hospital vehicle made its slow way over the boggy ground. Ella parked beside his ute and Fliss walked over to greet her with a hug.
Ella gave Hewitt a wave before busying herself opening the canopy on the back of the vet ute. With practised movements she covered her curves and long jean-clad legs in navy overalls before filling a metal bucket with a calf puller, bottle of lubricant, gloves and other items. Even dressed in work gear, and with no makeup, Hewitt had no doubt Ella had been called out to check on the animals of many a lonely, single farmer. Not only was the blonde vet stunning, she exuded an infectious warmth.
She made her way over to him, her smile genuine as she offered him her hand.
‘Hi, Hewitt. Nice to meet you.’ Beneath the brim of her navy Woodlea vet cap, her brown eyes sparkled. ‘I’ve heard great things about you from Edna.’
Hewitt shook Ella’s hand. ‘All of which aren’t true. Edna caught me on a good day.’
‘Somehow I don’t believe that. Cressy and Denham also sing your praises and we both know their judgement is spot on.’
Hewitt glanced at Fliss who stood silently next to Ella. His eyes met hers. For some reason it was important he let her know that as beautiful as Ella was, he hadn’t forgotten about her.
‘Now, where’s our first patient?’ Ella turned to enter the yards. ‘I’m sure she’d like to meet her new baby as soon as possible.’
The Black Angus cow stood quietly as Hewitt opened the top gate of the cattle race. Ella added a splash of disinfectant to the bucket of water and cleaned the back end of the cow. The vet then pulled on a long plastic glove and set about discovering what the trouble was.
Fliss stood quietly to the side. Hewitt kept his stance casual, making sure she wouldn’t see how much his shoulder ached.
‘If I had a dollar,’ Ella said, voice low as she concentrated on feeling where the calf’s front legs were, ‘for every calf I’ve had to pull this spring, the hospital would have its portable ultrasound in no time. All this feed isn’t just resulting in big cal
ves, there’ll be some chubby ponies who’ll end up with laminitis and have to miss the trail ride.’ Ella finished examining the position of the calf. ‘Thankfully this is one of my easier pulls. The left foot was back a little but it’s in the right spot now.’
After applying lubricant, Ella looped the calf puller above and below the calf’s fetlock joints. She placed the base against the cow’s rump. In time with the cow’s contractions, the vet pushed the steel handle down to inch each of the calf’s feet forwards. When the tip of the second hoof appeared, and then the head, Ella stopped the pressure to allow the mother to rest and for the calf to breathe.
When the contractions started again, Ella used the calf puller to help the slick, black body slide free. She unhooked the loops from around the calf’s legs, inspected the cow and then nodded to Hewitt to release her.
‘There’s no better sight,’ Ella said, tone satisfied as the cow licked her tiny calf. ‘Now for patient number two. I can’t wait to meet your mystery guest.’
While Ella cleaned and returned the items she’d used to the vet vehicle, Hewitt stood with Fliss, watching the mother and calf get to know each other.
It didn’t take long for Fliss to speak. ‘Is your shoulder okay?’
‘It’s just a twinge.’
‘Can I take a look?’
He faced her, masking his discomfort at the simple movement. The pain from his shoulder radiated down his side. But no matter how much he hurt, having Fliss up close and personal, especially after his thoughts about kissing her last night, was not an option. It was bad enough the emotional distance between them had diminished. He couldn’t allow their physical distance to be compromised. He locked his jaw and blanked out the undertow of attraction.
‘No, I’m fine. Really. Why don’t you head back with Ella to see the puppies? I’ll keep an eye on this pair until the calf has had her first drink of colostrum.’
Fliss’s lips pressed together but she didn’t say anything more as she turned away. As she waved to him from the passenger seat of Ella’s ute, he could see her staring at his shoulder.
The Red Dirt Road Page 7
