The Boundary Fence (A Woodlea Novel, #7)

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The Boundary Fence (A Woodlea Novel, #7) Page 10

by Alissa Callen


  They set off to join the stream of locals heading towards the two-storey building. Ahead a loved-up couple giggled as they strolled. Saul made sure he kept a careful distance away from Ella. He couldn’t risk anything else going awry tonight let alone anyone thinking they were an item. He hadn’t missed the curious looks when he and Ella had been talking at the dessert night.

  When the couple stopped to kiss, Ella kept her eyes averted and increased her pace to walk around them.

  Once at the pub, she turned to him. ‘If you see Penny, be careful. Once she gets you on the dancefloor, it will be impossible to leave.’

  ‘Thanks to my creaky old bull-rider bones, my dancing days are over.’

  Ella’s smile stayed with him as he followed her inside and worked his way through the crowd to where Denham sat at a table with Tanner, Hewitt and the local horse chiropractor, Hugh. He wasn’t sure where Ella had headed but when he sat he thought he saw Fliss and Cressy on the other side of the packed pub.

  Denham shouted a round of beers and talk turned to how dry the season was and when rain would fall. Penny had walked past and given him a smile but seemed content dancing with her friends and a group of young farmers which included the lanky redhead he recognised from earlier. Judging by some of the dance moves of the redhead and his friends, their alcohol consumption had now surpassed their sugar intake.

  While Denham, Tanner and Hugh bantered about which of their utes was superior, Saul sat back and again looked for Ella. She now stood over at the bar talking with Cressy and Hugh’s partner, dark-haired Sibylla. Her floral dress might pass the fingertip test and cover all the parts of her that a group of women nearby had on display, but the effect was far from conservative. The soft drape of the fabric caressed every soft curve and as for her long tanned legs, Edna was right. He’d seen at least half a dozen women glance at her with envy.

  He looked away. As for the men, he’d lost count of the number who’d checked her out. Ella might say she was happy being single but there was a score of men here tonight who would be willing to change her mind. She appeared oblivious to any attention. She neither gazed around to catch a bold gaze nor responded to any wave or greeting other than with a casual smile. Her message was clear. She hadn’t come tonight for anything other than to spend time with her friends.

  He didn’t realise that Hewitt had noticed where his attention had been until the pickup rider said quietly, ‘You can almost hear the hearts breaking.’

  Even as they watched, a man approached to buy Ella a drink until her smile friend-zoned him.

  ‘The thing is …’ Hewitt spoke again. ‘That look Ella has of not being interested was one I had. And is one you have too.’

  Saul didn’t answer, only took a mouthful of beer. Hewitt had read him accurately.

  Hewitt lowered his voice. ‘There’s nothing any of us would like better than to see Ella happy, so until then we all look out for her.’

  Saul gazed at Ella as she laughed at something Sibylla and Cressy said. ‘Ella deserves to be happy … but her reasons for wanting to stay single might never change.’

  Hewitt touched his beer to Saul’s. ‘Fliss and I are proof that anything can happen.’

  He hoped for Ella’s sake there did come a time when she was willing to let someone into her life. She did deserve to find happiness. She had so much warmth and love to give. He could see it in the way she cared for Violet and whatever animal she came into contact with. He’d also glimpsed longing in her eyes as she’d stared at Rosie’s photograph.

  He drank from his beer to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. As for him, the look he wore was a permanent one. He’d stick to building up his bison herd.

  This time it was Denham who clinked his beer against everyone’s glass. ‘While we’re toasting, I just want to thank Hewitt for taking over the wedding baton. You have no idea how glad I am to hand it to you.’

  Tanner chuckled. ‘I think we do. We’ve been the ones dragging you to the pub to de-stress.’

  Hewitt turned to Tanner with a grin. ‘I’m more than happy to pass it on.’

  Tanner held up his hands. ‘Whoa, Neve and I haven’t finished our house. I can’t even get my head around the difference between a loop and cut pile carpet let alone think about a wedding.’

  The group’s laughter rolled around Saul, banishing the memories of his own wedding day and making him thankful for the mateship he’d found since he moved to Woodlea.

  Denham spoke again. ‘So, Hewitt, any update on these secret squirrel wedding plans of yours?’

  ‘At the top of Fliss’s three page pre-wedding list it says to not talk about anything yet, even if Denham offers to buy me a beer.’

  As everyone laughed, Saul again glanced at Ella. The young redhead had left the dancefloor and now, a beer in his hand, sauntered over to where Ella stood with Cressy and Sibylla.

  He wasn’t the only one to notice.

  Hugh dipped his head towards the redhead. ‘I haven’t seen him around.’

  Tanner answered. ‘It’s Joe Wilkes. He lives out past Edna but has been jackarooing up north and has just finished his first year of ag college.’

  Denham pushed back his chair. ‘He has a few beers on board and is missing Ella’s signals. I’ll set him straight.’

  Saul came to his feet. ‘I’ll go. I owe her.’

  Tanner nodded with a wink. ‘I did see Ella run interference when Penny and Sally made a beeline for you.’

  Saul headed to where Joe now stood too close to Ella. As he reached her side, Joe swayed and it was only Ella taking a quick step backwards that stopped her from having beer tipped over her front. Amber liquid splashed over the floor.

  ‘Easy there, big fella.’ Saul reached out to steady him.

  Ella’s smile appeared serene but when she glanced at Saul frustration tempered the light in her eyes.

  ‘Saul,’ she said, tone dry, ‘meet Joe. Joe, meet Saul.’

  ‘No way.’ Joe swayed again. ‘You’re the bison dude.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m the bison dude.’

  ‘And the F-truck dude.’

  For once he was glad he was a creature of habit. Since he’d driven F-trucks overseas, he’d bought one when he arrived home. Joe clearly liked his cars as much as he did long-legged and beautiful blonde vets. ‘Yeah, I’m him too.’

  ‘Does it have a ten-speed transmission?’

  ‘It does.’

  In his peripheral vision he saw Ella, Cressy and Sibylla swap glances before they edged away and disappeared into the crowd.

  ‘I have a V8 AU Falcon.’

  Joe went on to talk about the work he’d done on his ute. At the end of the conversation Saul made sure the young farmer held a bottle of water instead of a beer. He was on his way back to his table when Ella walked past on her own, her brown bag looped over her shoulder. She waved across at Denham’s table but didn’t stop to chat as she headed for the door.

  Denham caught his eye and he nodded. He’d make sure Ella made it to her car.

  He followed her outside. Crickets chirped in the stillness and the moonlight now glowed through a thin veil of clouds. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom pub step that she turned to look at him. For a moment she stared and then waited for him to reach her side.

  She cast him a quick glance as they walked. ‘Thanks for helping out with Joe.’

  ‘To be honest I was more worried about him. I’ve seen you manhandle a hay bale.’

  A brief smile tilted her lips. ‘I was close to giving him the look I reserve for badly behaved Angus bulls.’

  ‘I might need you to use that look on one of my bison.’

  She laughed softly. ‘I’d like to learn more about working with them; if you ever need help let me know.’

  ‘I will.’ He paused. ‘Ella … I owe you an apology.’

  Her steps slowed as she searched his face. ‘What for?’

  ‘For running out on you at the hay bale challenge.’

  ‘You didn’t
run out … the day was over.’

  ‘We both know I did. I want to explain.’

  ‘You don’t need to. Really.’

  He hadn’t realised they’d stopped walking until she faced him. In the glow of the streetlight her eyes were large and her expression serious.

  ‘I do. We both put it on record that we have no plans to be anything but single. My short explanation is … I got married. I got divorced.’

  ‘I can see why you don’t want another relationship.’

  ‘The slightly less short version is when my marriage ended it did so in a very … public way. Trish and I were the talk of our small town.’

  ‘Ahh.’

  ‘Crowds normally don’t bother me. I saw more than my fair share on the rodeo circuit. I just hadn’t realised that when my marriage disintegrated, how trapped I felt until all those people were in front of me.’

  Her touch on his arm was as light as the night breeze. ‘I understand.’

  They started walking again.

  He felt her attention on him before she asked, ‘Do you still feel trapped?’

  ‘I feel free.’

  But even as he said the words he knew they were a lie. After what Trish’s duplicity and deceit had cost him, he’d never be free to trust, or to love, another woman again.

  CHAPTER

  7

  The next time she had the brilliant idea of going for a mid-morning jog, even if thick clouds covered the sun, she needed to think again.

  Ella climbed the veranda steps of her cottage and bent to rest her elbows on her knees. Breathing laboured and her skin slick, she waited for the dizziness to pass. The only time to go for a run was in the early morning or late evening.

  At least she’d come home to a cool house. She’d flicked on the evaporative air conditioner before she’d left as she only used a fan in her bedroom at night. As noisy as the air conditioner was, it kept the original section of the sandstone cottage a comfortable temperature as well as the renovated back extension. There was nowhere else she would be spending the rest of her Saturday morning than inside. When she headed to town for the last hair appointment before lunch, Taylor’s hair salon would be nice and refrigerated.

  Still gasping for air, she unlocked the front door. She’d have a shower and dust Libby’s room. Violet had kept it as it was and Ella wanted it to look perfect for whenever Violet was ready to visit.

  Instead of a draught of chilled air hitting her, the hallway possessed the same clammy feel as outside. She quickly shut the front door to keep the hot breeze out. An ominous silence filled the cottage as she headed for the air conditioner control panel on the wall outside the kitchen. No longer did a hum and a rattle sound from the roof. She flicked the switch on and off. Nothing.

  She grabbed her phone from off the kitchen bench. As she dialled she held open the fridge door, savouring the wash of cold air. Her trusty electrician Roy would soon have the air conditioner humming again.

  After several rings a voice answered. Except it wasn’t Roy’s gravelly tone. ‘Woodlea Electrical, Sharon speaking.’

  ‘Hi, Sharon, it’s Ella.’

  Sharon was Roy’s wife who Ella knew from when she’d treated her young Maltese terrier for mites.

  ‘Hi, Ella, it’s been a while.’

  ‘It has. I hope Snuff’s well. I know it’s a Saturday but I have an air conditioner that’s decided it’s been overworked and needs a break.’

  Sharon laughed but her amusement gave way to an apology. ‘I’m so sorry, Ella, but Roy and I are in Dubbo … at the hospital. A certain person thought it would be quicker to fall off the ladder and break his leg than to climb down.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound good. Does Roy need surgery?’

  ‘He’s in there now.’

  ‘Wish him well for me and I’ll pop around when you’re back.’

  ‘Give Nick a call otherwise there’s a new guy … I took down his details from the community noticeboard … it’s here in my bag somewhere. Okay, his name’s Doug Jones and his number is …’

  Ella shut the fridge door and wrote the number Sharon read out onto the back of an envelope. ‘Thanks. Hope Roy’s home soon.’

  She poured a glass of iced water before ringing the second electrician. When the phone rang out she left a message before calling the new person. He picked up straight away.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Is that Doug Jones? I’m after someone to fix my air conditioner.’

  ‘Yup. That’s me. Where are you?’

  ‘Ambleside, on the left, twenty minutes after the turn onto Woolpack Road. I know it’s Saturday …’

  ‘Give me an hour.’

  Relief quickened Ella’s words. ‘Thanks so much.’

  As she ended the call she had a thought that not only did he sound young but perhaps there was a reason why he wasn’t busy in the peak of summer, especially when the town was down one electrician. Her doubts fled as she went for a shower.

  Hair wet, and with a raspberry yoghurt iceblock in her hand, she went out to sit on the shaded front veranda where there was a semblance of a breeze. She had everything crossed that this Doug Jones not only turned up but was on time.

  She settled in a white wicker rocking chair and looked out over the garden. The standard iceberg roses that lined the front fence were in full bloom as was the cerise-pink crepe myrtle tucked into the corner beside the veranda. A blue wren perched on the mosaic bird bath that Libby had made out of broken china and tiles to match the mosaic stepping stones scattered throughout the garden. Ella had made sure that when Violet moved into town two of Libby’s handmade stepping stones, as well as a smaller birdbath, had gone with her.

  The lavender hedge that ran along the side fence perfumed the air with its sweet fragrance. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, her gaze lifted from the delicate purple spikes to where a corrugated iron roof gleamed amongst the established trees of Saul’s garden. This week they’d texted each other, though the texts had been infrequent and solely about Violet. In a quiet moment she’d find herself checking for new messages. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she missed his dry humour that had made her smile while they’d built the castle.

  When yoghurt dripped on her wrist she realised she was doing more thinking than eating. As short as Saul’s explanation of why she would be safe with him had been, the pain that had edged his low words spoke of the anguish associated with the longer version. The wedding photo on his computer suggested he was the aggrieved party in what could only have been a brutal break-up.

  She finished her iceblock, which was now in danger of sliding off the stick and into her lap. No good would come of her wondering about Saul’s story; he already affected her far more than he should. The way she’d reacted to his touch was more than enough of a warning. She’d wanted closure about why he’d left the hay bale challenge, now she had it. She’d seen him the past two weekends so this weekend needed to be two Saul-free days. It was the only way she’d restore order to her emotions and her life.

  An engine sounded before a Hilux drove through the front gate and parked behind her four-wheel drive. Things looked promising. Doug Jones had arrived when he said he would. She walked around the house and through the back garden to meet him. Thankfully as he left the driver’s seat he appeared older than he sounded.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, chewing gum and making no attempt to hide that he was checking her out. His attention lingered on her bare legs below the cuffs of her denim shorts before settling on her loose, still damp hair.

  She stopped a good distance away, her hopes falling that the new guy would prove to be even half as reliable as Roy.

  ‘Morning.’ Her tone was as cool as the ice melting in her water glass beside the rocking chair. ‘The aircon’s turned off inside and the unit’s this way.’

  She waved for him to precede her. Even if she was wearing an oversized green work shirt she wasn’t having him inspect the back of her as thoroughly as he had the front. She didn’t make
small talk when they stopped and he stared up at the square unit perched on the rooftop.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, before heading inside to collect the book she’d been reading from off her bedside table. As she returned to her seat on the veranda, clunking sounded as the electrician clamoured around on the tin roof.

  Two chapters later Doug Jones appeared at the veranda front steps, no longer chewing gum. Sweat dripped down his cheeks and the front of his faded red shirt was wet around the neck. But as hot and uncomfortable as he looked, the open interest in his gaze hadn’t waned.

  After he’d come inside to look at the control panel, she poured him a glass of cold water. As she added ice, a familiar hum and rattle sounded overhead.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling with relief as she passed him the glass.

  He sculled the water before answering. ‘It was an easy fix. I’ll drop an invoice round Monday.’

  She kept her smile in place as she took the empty glass he handed her like she was his personal assistant. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. Whatever antiperspirant he used hadn’t held its own against the heat. ‘I’ll be at work so just pop it in the mailbox.’

  ‘I can call around anytime.’

  She spoke before she could roll her eyes. ‘Putting the invoice in the letterbox will be fine.’ Her words were as firm as her gaze was steady. He was the first to look away.

  ‘Righto.’

  She walked with him to the front door. ‘Thanks again.’

  ‘Are you sur—’

  She raised her brows.

  He stopped, then said over his shoulder, ‘See ya.’

  She shut the door with a sigh. That was the first and last time Doug Jones would fix anything for her. He may have got the job done but his customer service was far from professional. She dragged hair from off her face. It could have been worse. The air conditioner might have needed to be replaced or she could have had to call on a certain neighbour for help.

  After she was sure Doug had left, she went outside to pick the mauve roses that possessed a strong aromatic fragrance. By the time she’d changed into a red fit-and-flare dress, the cottage smelled like a perfume shop. She didn’t usually dress up to go to town but for some reason after thinking far too much about Saul this week, it seemed important to remind herself how liberating it was to be on her own.

 

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