She lowered her tense shoulders as she negotiated a bend in the driveway. Everything would be okay. She might be out of her comfort zone dealing with her new neighbour but she’d soon be in work mode.
She parked near where the dog waited for her in what looked like a designated car park. A quick look around confirmed there wasn’t any sign of Saul. She left the driver’s seat and the Australian shepherd raced towards her, tail wagging. Both his eyes were a clear and bright blue. The last time she’d seen a dog of this breed, they’d had one blue and one brown eye.
A whistle cut through the air, causing the Australian shepherd to freeze and to sit an arm’s length away from her. Boots crunched on gravel. She looked up at the man who stood behind the Australian shepherd and spoke before self-consciousness could render her breathless. ‘Is it okay to pat him?’
Saul’s eyes were hidden beneath dark sunglasses but his mouth tilted in a brief smile. ‘Duke will be offended if you don’t. He takes his welcoming role very seriously.’
Ella looked down at Duke who had wriggled forwards, desperate to say hello. It was either pat the sociable Australian shepherd or stare too long at his owner.
No wonder Penny and her friends were smitten. Even with his sunglasses and his cap brim pulled low, Saul’s stubbled jaw and the indent in his chin left quite an impression. Add a deep voice and an accent that wasn’t quite Australian but also not American, and he was the complete package. She hadn’t dared let her attention leave his face. She didn’t need to be reminded of how wide his shoulders were or how in shape the rest of him was.
She ruffled Duke’s neck. ‘Hello, gorgeous boy.’ When the Australian shepherd leaned against her legs, getting as much of himself as close to her as possible, she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You’re a great welcoming committee.’
Conscious this wasn’t a social call, she glanced at Saul who stood with his arms folded. Giving Duke a last pat, she stepped forwards and offered Saul her hand. ‘I’m Ella.’
For a moment he didn’t move. She had to be mistaken but she thought she saw his jaw clench.
Then, his calloused palm slid against hers. ‘Saul. We met at Cressy and Denham’s wedding.’
It didn’t matter if she concentrated on giving his hand a firm shake or on the thought he was a client, the heat from his skin warmed her far more than the midsummer sun above them. She’d mull over later whether it was good or bad he remembered her. Right now all she could breathe in was his crisp woody scent. All she could feel was the gentle strength of his work-hardened grip.
She released his hand and tugged her own cap brim low. ‘So where’s this patient of mine?’
‘Follow the track around to the right to the far end of the big shed. I’ll meet you there.’
The brief drive and blast of air-conditioning gave her a chance to cool off and to collect herself. The worst was over. She’d met Saul again. She’d heard the husky timbre of his voice and felt the respect and care in his touch. She’d learned to sum up a man’s character by the way he shook her hand.
It was now just another regular day as a rural vet. She glanced at a group of bison that lumbered close to the fence. Even if she was dealing with an animal she’d never dealt with before.
She pulled up alongside a gator parked in a narrow shed. The nearby equestrian complex had been converted into a bison handling centre with both external and internal yards. A small group of bison rested in the shade of a holding pen, while further inside Saul stood next to what looked like a narrow race. Just like when dealing with cattle, Saul would have brought the injured bison in with some companions to keep her calm.
She collected what she needed from the back of the ute before heading towards Saul. Duke bounded over to her. She gave him a quick pat before assessing her surroundings. The internal set of yards was high, with more curves than angles, and the central race had covered sides as well as a grid across the top. It wasn’t only Cinnamon and Nutmeg who could jump. The attention to detail and the solidity of the yards reassured her that Saul took the safety of his stock, as well as himself, seriously.
She increased her pace. The quiet cluster of bison in the holding yard didn’t fool her. Domesticated bison retained their wild instincts, which meant it was a priority to treat her patient as quickly and efficiently as possible. A thwack sounded as the injured bison kicked out at the side of the race.
Saul turned to greet her with a nod. He’d removed his cap and sunglasses. His dark hair was longer than she remembered and his eyes were a serious and muted blue. ‘The injury’s on her left flank. She’s only a yearling so at the bottom of the pecking order.’
Moving closer to the race, he used unhurried movements and the relaxed tone of low-stress handling to move the bison forwards as he slid the gates shut behind her. He soon had her in the hydraulic squeeze chute and her head carefully caught in the headgate. Ella opened a drop-down chute panel to see what she was dealing with. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the smell of dust. There was no doubt the bison had been gored by the sharp tip of a horn.
The young bison’s laboured breathing and lifting tail warned her before the animal struggled and tried to kick out. Even though the bison was immobilised, Ella took a step back. She’d witnessed enough accidents when people had become complacent and animals did the seemingly impossible. She’d also seen what happened when a latch on a cattle squeeze chute gave way.
Saul moved closer to her side. The action didn’t fill her with reassurance. She hoped it wasn’t a sign he didn’t think she was able to cope. Chin angled, she moved forward to administer a light sedative in a vein in the bison’s tail. While she waited for the drug to take effect she prepared what she needed to flush out the wound. Making every movement count, she examined, cleaned and stitched the flap of torn skin into place. She then gave the bison a tetanus shot as well as one of antibiotics. As the young bison had only been lightly sedated, she didn’t need to inject any antidote.
After checking the bison for any other injuries and finding none, she nodded at Saul. ‘She’s good to go.’
He released the headgate and the bison made her slow way out of the chute.
‘Thank you,’ Saul said, his attention on the bison as she went over to the fence that separated her from the others. ‘I can deal with the normal scrapes and cuts but that was way above my skill set.’
‘It was a nasty tear.’
Now the bison had been treated there was nothing to distract her from her intense awareness of the man beside her. Her rapid pulse and dry mouth couldn’t only be blamed on the heat. She made sure her expression didn’t reveal her uncertainty. She had her fingers crossed the way she’d handled the bison’s injury would reset any impression of weakness that Saul may have formed at the wedding. She couldn’t afford him remembering the tears she’d fought to hold back when she’d been sure no one was looking.
When the silence lengthened, she made cheerful small talk. ‘Bison are such fascinating animals. Their heads and shoulders are so large and powerful, but don’t seem to match the rest of them.’
‘I know what you mean. Their head and horns are their widest part, so if they can get their head through an opening, the rest will follow.’
‘Unlike a certain goat. Cinnamon’s head fits through the gap beside the vegetable garden gate but luckily her stomach stops her from getting any further no matter how hard she tries.’
She thought Saul was going to chuckle but instead a gone-too-soon smile shaped his mouth. ‘How are they after their adventure?’
‘Full of cheek. They were in the kitchen this morning when I came back from my walk. That will teach me to leave the screen door ajar. Thanks for bringing them home and for the firewood.’
‘No worries.’
The conversation again lapsed, reminding her that Saul wasn’t someone she should be making small talk with. He might remember her from the wedding but this didn’t mean they were friends. She also had a full day of clients to see. Cressy and Fliss wer
e always joking that her schedule ran as smoothly as the Swiss rail system.
She took a final look at the young bison who stood with her head lowered. The light sedative would soon wear off.
As if sensing her thoughts, Saul spoke. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her. I’ve got a small paddock she can go into by herself that will allow her the social contact she needs. I’ve also made some changes to her family group so the herd she’ll go back into should be more tolerant.’
Ella’s heart warmed. It wasn’t only the way Saul had acted to protect the young bison that moved her, but also his tone. Husky and rich, it proved he cared about the welfare of his animals. It also suggested that behind his reserve, genuine compassion existed.
Feeling her self-control waver, she focused on gathering the equipment she’d used. Nothing won her over more than someone who loved animals as much as she did. Duke left the comfortable spot he’d been sleeping in beside the fence to come over for a farewell pat.
She risked a quick glance at Saul. ‘Give me a call if you’re worried about anything.’
‘Will do.’
She hesitated. For some reason she was reluctant to leave. Maybe she needed a sign, or something, to indicate that she’d amended any poor opinion he may have held.
Then, he smiled. A full, real smile that lightened the solemn blue in his eyes and erased the grooves beside his mouth. ‘Thanks again for your help.’
She gave a single nod before turning on her boot heels.
Nothing was guaranteed to provide a reality check faster than the white flash of a man’s smile that made her senses melt and her heart hammer.
Thoughts of Ella continued to preoccupy Saul long after the dust had settled behind the veterinary hospital ute.
He’d stayed with the young bison to make sure she recovered from the sedation and then moved her into a paddock that shared two fences with what would be her new herd. But even when the bison no longer needed observing, all he could think about was Ella. So he’d cooled off with a swim and retreated to the kitchen to unpack boxes in a last ditch attempt to keep busy.
Duke lay asleep on his dog bed beneath the air conditioner, unconcerned that Saul was clanking cutlery as he put the knives he should have found weeks ago into a drawer.
When Penny had said Ella would soon be on her way, he realised his belief he’d see the vet later rather than sooner had been nothing but wishful thinking. He’d spent the time before she arrived making sure his self-control was bulletproof. When Duke had barked, signalling she was here, he’d squared his shoulders, convinced he was ready to see her. He was wrong.
He stared at the half-empty cutlery drawer. He still wasn’t sure what had done the most damage. The memories Ella triggered or the new ones he was having trouble filing away. This time she might have been makeup free, her hair in a ponytail and wearing scuffed boots, but she’d still caused his breathing to stall. If that wasn’t enough of a red flag, he’d never reacted to Trish in the same way. As for Ella’s soft laughter when Duke had greeted her, it was a sweet sound that would haunt his dreams.
He emptied a packet of forks into the open drawer with another loud clatter. At the wedding Ella had been elegant and sophisticated but today he saw a down-to-earth woman who was so much more than a beauty who turned heads. She’d shaken his hand with the confidence of someone who knew her own mind. She’d dealt with an unfamiliar breed of animal with empathy and expertise. It was only when he’d clasped her hand, and again when she was about to leave, that he’d caught a flicker of wariness in her brown eyes.
The vulnerability had been fleeting but it had been enough to make him want to put her at ease. She’d obviously remembered him for all the wrong reasons. It also wasn’t her fault he wasn’t the easiest person to be around. Denham’s favourite saying since he’d returned was ‘mate, lighten up’. Except when he’d tried to, his smile seemed to have sent Ella running.
He ripped the tape off another box. As for the cold clutch of fear when the bison had kicked out at her, where had that come from? Even though the bison had been held securely, things could go wrong. He’d seen firsthand why squeeze chutes had a reputation for being jawbreakers with their protruding handles and moving parts. There was an old saying that a bison could kick you a second time before you’d even realised you’d been kicked.
Giving in to his restlessness, he abandoned the unpacked box and grabbed his F-truck keys from off the bench. It was bad enough that Ella’s dignified strength had drawn him to her at the wedding and that holding her for their waltz had made his chest tighten with a need he’d never wanted to feel again. Today he could add that he respected and admired her as well. A combination that had no place in his plans for starting a new life at Windermere.
He glanced at Duke. The weather was too hot to ride Cisco, so he’d clear his head with a drive instead. ‘An Aussie meat pie sounds pretty good right now.’
Duke leapt to his feet and dashed out the kitchen door.
Instead of lowering the tailgate of the F-truck for Duke to jump into, Saul opened the passenger door of the rear seat. Duke bounded in and Saul secured him in the dog harness.
After they’d passed Ella’s sandstone cottage, he made a conscious effort to relax. He focused on the landscape that undulated in sun-bleached waves either side of the gravel road. Even in the short time he’d been in the district, new signs for water carting services had appeared on the way to town. Despite the lack of rain, the heat and the dust, there was no other place he’d rather be.
The Bell River Valley with its distant rugged ridge, its timbered plateaus and rich alluvial soil reminded him of where he’d grown up further north. His younger brother may have left the bush for the city but he’d never be content unless there was blue sky above him and space around him. When, as a teenager, his father had died and his mother had sold the family farm, he’d vowed to get back onto the land. And he had.
He sighed, the sound lost under the noise of the air-conditioning. Even if his first attempt had been in the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming and saw him walk away with nothing but his dog, his horse and a gutful of regret.
For his second attempt he’d planned to return to the hills of his childhood. Except his mother was now buried beside his father and there was no family left. When he’d come to Cressy and Denham’s wedding he’d stayed a few days to look around. It had only taken a casual comment by a guest about a local equestrian property proving hard to sell, an afternoon’s inspection, a morning on his mobile and the property had been his.
He slowed as the WELCOME TO WOODLEA sign appeared out of the shimmering heat. He had to be crazy wanting something hot to eat on a day like today. But a pie and sauce was one thing he’d missed in his decade and a half overseas and the bakery did make a particularly tasty chunky beef pie. The drive had also served its purpose. His head had now emptied of all thoughts of Ella.
At the top of the hill he drove by the red brick local hospital that commanded panoramic views. He could only hope that by next spring the valley floor would be a carpet of yellow and green. For that to happen, much-needed rain had to fall before the winter oats, wheat and canola crops could be sown.
The road dipped, taking him past the historic stone church with its distinctive bell tower to the heart of the main street. Last autumn the streetscape had been yarn-bombed in wedding white, but now it was dressed in the restful hues of blue. Woollen creations were wrapped around benches, lampposts and tree trunks. The recent storms had only delivered wind and dust devils and the guerrilla knitters were doing what they could to lift town spirits.
He parked outside the bakery in the shade of a leafy plane tree. It was too hot to leave Duke inside the F-truck but he would be right in the trayback for the short time while he grabbed some pies to go. He’d then eat in the cool of the truck where Duke had his own bowl for his share.
The Australian shepherd hadn’t even jumped out of the passenger seat when an exuberant voice sounded behind them. ‘Well, hello there.’
>
He slowly turned. He hadn’t been in town five minutes and Woodlea’s social queen bee had tracked him down.
‘Morning, Edna.’
With her styled grey hair, pearls and white linen dress, Edna Galloway hadn’t made any wardrobe concessions to the blistering weather.
‘I was only thinking I haven’t seen you in town for a while.’ Her smile stretched and he thought for a moment she might embrace him. He readied himself not to inhale. In the heat the strong scent of her perfume bordered on overpowering. ‘But here you are. No doubt you’re in for those pies you like?’
Was there anything Edna didn’t know? He could only be thankful that his life had unravelled thousands of miles away.
‘I’m making up for lost time.’
‘It’s our little secret I had one of their beef, bacon and cheese pies earlier. Dr Fliss says I have to watch my cholesterol but I’ve been so busy in the charity shop I’m sure I’ve walked the pie off as well as the caramel slice I had with my morning coffee.’
Saul masked a smile. Edna’s heels were not made for walking.
She briefly glanced at Duke who sat quietly near Saul’s boots. The Australian shepherd had met Edna when she’d visited the day they’d moved in and had quickly sensed she wasn’t a dog person.
‘Of course you have Duke with you.’
‘I do.’ Ever since he was a pup the Australian shepherd had been the one constant in his life. It was now very rare for them to be separated.
Edna continued to stare at Duke but made no move to pat him. ‘I must say I’m surprised to see you both in town so early. Ella mustn’t have spent long at your place. Duke looks fine so it must have been one of your bison she went out for.’
It took all of Saul’s willpower to keep his expression deadpan. Denham joked that Edna had superpowers and right now he almost believed it. Edna lived on the other side of Woodlea, so she couldn’t have passed Ella on the drive in. ‘Yes, I had a bison who needed medical attention.’
The Boundary Fence (A Woodlea Novel, #7) Page 3
