A young border collie leapt out of the truck cabin, a black patch over his right eye. He came over to Saul for a quick pat before he and Duke tore off to where a cluster of speckled guinea fowls were having a dust bath beneath a shade tree. When Duke and Patch approached, the guinea fowls made their displeasure known with loud chirps and squawks before flying up into the tree.
Tanner removed his Woodlea rodeo cap and shook his head before dragging his hand through his dark-blond hair. ‘It’s beyond me why those two would run around in this heat.’
Both watched as Duke and Patch disappeared into the garden.
‘Tell me about it.’ Saul rubbed at his gritty eyes. He didn’t add that it wasn’t the high afternoon temperature that drained him but a sleepless night. He’d paid a heavy price for seeing Ella yesterday. ‘Let’s get this hay unloaded, then we can cool off before fishing.’
‘I like your thinking. By the way, Denham’s sent you a special delivery.’
Tanner’s wide grin warned Saul that whatever Denham had sent out wasn’t the usual machinery parts.
Tanner returned with a box filled with what looked like white paper bags. The aroma of meat pies wafted over to him.
Saul groaned. Denham must have heard about his meeting with Edna outside the pie shop.
‘At least your cousin’s sense of humour means we’re sorted for dinner,’ he said, as Tanner handed him the box.
While Tanner went to park his truck near the shed, Saul put the pies inside. On his way out he texted Denham to see if he and Cressy wanted to come for dinner. Denham had sent out enough pies to feed the local rugby team.
Denham’s quick reply was followed by a string of laughing emojis.
Sorry, in Dubbo. Edna would be free.
Saul texted back an eye rolling emoji as he walked towards the machinery shed.
Tanner stood over near his truck talking on his mobile but there remained no sign of Duke or Patch. That morning he’d relocated a blue-tongue lizard Duke had discovered in the front garden. He could only hope the dogs didn’t find any brown snakes. An emergency trip to visit Ella at the vet surgery wouldn’t exactly be ideal right now.
He climbed into the tractor and fired up the engine. Even though he had spoken to Ella about the hay bale challenge, he couldn’t seem to move on. As casual as her voice had sounded, he hadn’t missed her strain when she’d said she wasn’t doing the challenge on her own. He’d been right to not let Edna add her name to the list, but he didn’t now need the distraction of wondering what her reasons had been.
He drove towards the truck and, using the tractor hay forks, lifted off the end round bale. For the past six weeks he’d had no trouble zeroing in on what needed to be done to get his bison farm operational. Today he’d been flat out deciding what to have for breakfast. He glanced at his bare ring finger. He had no time or emotional energy to be thinking about a woman and the pain she went to such great lengths to hide. He wasn’t fitting the pieces of his broken life back together for a second time.
Once he’d unloaded the last round bale, he returned the tractor to the machinery shed. Quiet descended as the tractor engine rumbled to a stop. By now both dogs had appeared and were sitting in the shade of the hay shed. Tongues lolling, they stared at the curious bison who had come over to the fence.
Tanner nodded in the direction of the bison bull and five cows. ‘Seeing them makes me feel like I’m back in Montana.’
‘Same here. Some mornings when I look outside I still expect to see pine trees instead of eucalypts.’
Together they walked towards the bison. Beyond the paddock and meandering tree line of the Bell River stretched a distant rugged ridge. Neither had to say anything to know the other was thinking of the snowy peaks and golden aspen groves of the faraway mountains they’d once called home.
They stopped at the fence. Bison were unpredictable and it had been a priority these past weeks to build trust with each bull and cow. He was now able to handfeed this breeding group. The bull, Dakota, had a soft spot for apples.
Tanner spoke quietly as Dakota approached. ‘I never thought I’d find anything that out-sized Reggie, but this guy’s massive.’
Saul reached through the fence to rub the bull’s curly wide forehead. A beard hung from beneath his jaw and wads of light-brown wool draped from his shoulders.
‘Dakota here is a gentleman but the bull in the paddock to your left would make even Reggie look friendly.’
‘Rather you than me when you work him in the yards. I’ve seen how high bison can jump. As for how quickly they can move …’
The light in Tanner’s blue eyes as he scanned the adjacent paddock for the temperamental bull confirmed he’d be over anytime Saul needed help. He wasn’t the only cowboy drawn to working with the massive thunder beasts.
Saul moved to scratch a cow’s neck. The first time he’d seen bison they’d been stampeding across the valley floor at the base of a Wyoming mountain range. He could still remember the feel of the ground shaking. Their power, their ruggedness and their disdain for order had all spoken to something within him. He’d gone from riding cantankerous rodeo bulls to working on a bison ranch and then to buying out the owner. He flipped the switch on his memories. He wasn’t revisiting what had then followed.
Tanner nodded at a fluffy bison calf the colour of caramel who stayed close to his mother’s side. ‘He looks young for a summer calf?’
‘He is. He came from a farm in Queensland where it’s also been dry so the cows were joined late. He won’t start turning a chocolate colour for at least another month.’
The first hurdle in making his dream to breed bison in Australia a reality had been to source stock. Bison couldn’t be imported and there was only a limited number available for sale. He’d been patient and lucky. When a bison farm in Victoria had sold up he purchased their herd to add to the Queensland cows and bull. His last addition had been a bull from the Dubbo zoo to vary the bloodlines.
Saul gave the cow a final scratch and stepped back. The sun continued to burn through the thick cotton of his shirt but the shadows thrown by the bisons’ humped shapes were lengthening.
He glanced at Tanner. ‘Like to meet the herd who’ll be giving Arrow a run for his money?’
‘Sure would.’
They followed the dirt road past the yard complex to an extensive set of stables. Duke and Patch ran beside them, their brief rest having replenished their energy.
Behind the stables stood a rectangular outdoor dressage arena. Over a few beers at the Royal Arms one Friday night, he and Tanner had hatched a plan to make the sandy arena circular and to add a set of steel yards. It would be from here that Tanner would run his campdrafting courses using Saul’s bison. Thanks to a bison’s speed, stamina and ability to turn quickly, they were sought after as training animals for both campdrafting horses and riders. As soon as the fencing contractor finished his next job, he’d start on the arena modifications.
Cisco looked up from where he was grazing at the far side of his paddock. When he realised there was no food in sight, the pinto swished his tail and went back to eating.
Tanner chuckled. ‘Well, I know where we are on Cisco’s list of priorities.’
‘That’s Cisco for you.’ The aloof and impatient gelding could never be described as needy. ‘He’s the only horse I know who thinks apples are overrated.’
They continued on to a paddock that was home to a group of bachelor bulls. When the bison saw him and Tanner, they pounded towards the fence. A cloud of red dust trailed behind them.
‘Arrow’s going to love drafting this lot,’ Tanner said as the boisterous bulls slowed and two butted heads.
‘I’m sure he will. Just as much as they’re going to love outwitting him.’
Saul gave the still jostling bulls a once-over to make sure none had come off second best against a set of curved horns. When he was satisfied there were no injuries, he and Tanner returned to the farmhouse.
While Saul cut up cheese
for fish bait, Tanner helped himself to two meat pies. When they returned outside, the stiff early evening breeze contained a hint of welcome coolness.
Tanner sighed with relief. ‘Now this is more like it. I’m not so tempted to move to Antarctica.’
‘Does Neve know of your plans?’
Tanner was in the middle of building his dream home on his new farm with the redheaded occupational therapist.
‘She’s so besotted with Dell’s foal it’s a no brainer, I’d be going on my own.’
Even though his words were said in jest, a seriousness tempered the laughter in his eyes. Tanner could no more leave Neve behind than he could wear polished city shoes instead of worn cowboy boots. Saul fought a wrench of loss. Once he’d loved a woman with the same soul-deep intensity.
After fishing rods and tackle boxes were loaded onto the farm ute and the two dogs had leapt onto the back, Saul drove to the machinery shed. He’d inherited an old silver tinny with the farm and this was the second time he and Tanner had taken it out on the river. Last trip Tanner had caught a Murray cod and in true fishing-story style its size grew with each telling.
With the boat trailer attached to the back of the ute, Saul took the track that ran along the boundary fence and would lead past the tree that had split in the wind storm. At the open double gates Tanner looked across the paddocks towards Ella’s house but didn’t make any comment. Saul too risked a look at the sandstone building illuminated in the waning light but he couldn’t see any movement around the house or in the garden. Cinnamon and Nutmeg stood inside a small shed. Ella wasn’t yet home.
The screech of cockatoos grew louder as a line of red river gums filled the horizon. The Bell River wound its way through Windermere and along the back boundary of Ella’s farm. With the summer being so dry the river provided a crucial source of water for both stock and wildlife. A mob of kangaroos bounded away through the trees, while a hare sped into the shadows.
Saul made a quick stop at the river pumps. He left the ute to climb the ladder to the control box that sat on a steel platform above the flood line. From the elevated view he caught a glimpse of movement that could have been Ella’s four-wheel drive pulling into her carport. When he’d switched the main pump to automatic, he and Tanner continued on to a flat section of the riverbank.
Once the tinny was in the water, the dogs onboard and the fishing gear stowed, Saul pull-started the outboard motor. He sat at the back of the boat and steered it towards the bend where Tanner had caught the good-sized Murray cod. The breeze increased to a brisk wind, stealing the heat from his skin and the tension from his shoulders. The faint scent of honey sweetened the air; somewhere on the riverbank there had to be a beehive in a tree hollow. He swapped a grin with Tanner.
They stopped to add bait to their hooks and to cast their lines. Time slowed as they waited for a bite. When there’d been nothing but a nibble, Saul headed the tinny closer to the riverbank that gave way to rounded pebbles and coarse river sand. Focused on the increasing tension on his line, he almost missed the flash of brown-and-white at the top of the bank. But he couldn’t fail to hear an ear-piercing bleat.
He and Tanner reached for Duke and Patch at the same time to stop the pair from jumping into the water to give chase. The tinny rocked before both dogs settled.
The goat bleated again before a larger goat appeared.
‘That answers Denham’s question about Ella’s goats finding another way to escape,’ Tanner said, keeping a gentle hand on Patch who whined and quivered with excitement.
‘I don’t think they got out by themselves.’ Saul kept his words light even though it felt as though a fishing line drew tight around his chest. ‘Ella won’t be far away.’
As resourceful as the two goats were, they would have needed to find their way through at least three fences to get to the river. One evening while riding, he’d seen Ella out walking with the goats and he guessed she was doing so again.
Pebbles clattered before the vet appeared at the top of the bank. Dressed in loose black running shorts and a fitted white tank top, she was all long legs, curves and tousled blonde hair. Saul’s hold on Duke’s collar loosened and the dog slipped away. It was only a sharp whistle that kept the Australian shepherd in the tinny.
Tanner grinned as Nutmeg again gave a strangled bleat. ‘There goes the serenity.’
Saul only nodded. He was too busy reading Ella’s reaction. After briefly stopping when she saw them, she waved and continued down the bank. The goats ran beside her before lowering their heads to drink at the water’s edge.
‘So this is the infamous Cinnamon and Nutmeg?’ Tanner said as Patch wriggled, again making the tinny rock.
Ella flashed Tanner a warm smile. Her smile at Saul then didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘How’s my patient? Still doing well?’ She barely waited for his nod before she refocused on Tanner. ‘You know you’ve set the bar high with that fish you caught last week. Denham and Hewitt are determined to beat you.’
‘Seeing as it was this big …’ With one hand still on Patch, Tanner indicated a width that was almost double the size of the Murray cod that he’d caught and released. ‘They’ll have a hard time.’
The breeze tangled in Ella’s hair and she brushed the windblown strands away from her cheek. ‘Are you sure that’s how big it was?’
Tanner’s blue eyes twinkled. ‘Give or take a few centimetres.’
Ella laughed but Saul’s attention wasn’t caught by the beauty of her animated face. The wind had caught in the front of her running shorts and lifted the light black fabric to reveal her smooth, toned thighs. Except high on her right leg the skin was puckered and raised in a white scar.
A scar that wasn’t the result of a simple injury. A scar that spoke of trauma and suffering and strength.
Ella’s hand clapped down on her shorts. He registered the shock on Tanner’s face before Ella’s wide defensive gaze met his.
A scar that was synonymous with secrets.
CHAPTER
4
On any other trip to town, after spying Edna’s white Land Cruiser in the main street, Ella would have taken the next turn and parked elsewhere. But for once Edna was someone she wanted to see.
Ella reverse-parked beside Edna’s red dust–coated car. Every call to Edna’s phone over the past few days had gone to voicemail. If she didn’t know better she’d have thought the town busybody was avoiding her.
After slipping the vet mobile phone into her shirt pocket—it was Saturday and she was the weekend on-call vet—she collected a box from the back of her four-wheel drive. The charity shop closed in five minutes. She would have come earlier except a young boy and his mother had walked into the vet surgery with a sheep on a lead.
The black-faced dorper had been wandering past their house in town. The ewe was wearing a green collar and was friendly so had to be someone’s pet. Ella had placed a post on the local missing animal social media page and until the sheep’s owners realised she’d gone for a stroll, she was living it up in the vet stables.
With the box of items that Violet no longer wanted perched on her hip, Ella pushed open the door of the charity shop.
Sue greeted her with a smile from where she sat behind the counter. A vase beside the cash register was filled with fragrant pink roses that would have been from the retired librarian’s much-loved garden. ‘I was hoping to see you. Meredith said she didn’t think you’d been in for a few days.’
Ella sat the heavy box on the smooth countertop. ‘I’ve had this in my car since Tuesday.’
‘You’ve been working too much.’ Sue glanced at the phone in Ella’s front pocket. ‘And you’re still working. At least next weekend is the hay bale challenge and the Friday after that the dessert night. Both will give you a chance to unwind.’
Ella thought hard. While she’d been out west after the bushfires she was certain Cressy had mentioned something about desserts at the old bluestone schoolhouse and buying tickets. ‘I’m helping Cressy t
omorrow on her hay design and I think I have a ticket for the dessert night.’
‘Taylor said you all were going and it would be like old times.’
Before she’d bought Violet’s farm, Ella had lived in town and her place had always been the get-ready venue before any big social event. Sue was Taylor’s mother and had often saved the day with a needle and thread when an evening dress strap had broken or a heel had gone through the hem of a ball gown. But now, with Cressy married and Fliss engaged, their close-knit group wasn’t as social anymore.
Ella banished a pang of loneliness and regret. The only reason why she was on her own and wasn’t partnered up was because she’d made the decision not to marry Charles. She’d had everything, and more, within reach and yet she’d thrown it away because she’d been naive and uncertain. She had to live with the consequences, and the nightmare that had followed, even if she ended up being the only one without a significant other in their life.
Sue inclined her head towards the front window and Edna’s car. ‘Bethany mentioned you’ve been given a very special job.’
It wasn’t unexpected that Sue knew about Edna’s party. Sue could keep a secret and had known Edna since they were girls. ‘A special and challenging job, so much so our code word for Edna’s party is mission impossible.’
Sue laughed. ‘Let me know when you have a venue sorted and I can help decorate.’
‘Thank you. At the moment we’re still trying to outsmart Edna and find a way to keep this all hush-hush.’
‘Good luck.’
‘We’ll need it.’
With a cheery wave, Ella went back out into the heat. She still had a little time before she was due at Violet’s for a late lunch, and she had a hunch exactly where Edna would be.
As she walked along the sunny main street she made sure her strides were even and that her right leg didn’t lag. It was no coincidence that ever since her ill-fated evening walk earlier in the week she’d worn her biggest work shirts to cover her thighs. She resisted the urge to pull the hem of her pink shirt lower. Even though her scar was hidden beneath her jeans, she still felt the warm flush of self-consciousness.
The Boundary Fence (A Woodlea Novel, #7) Page 5
