The Boundary Fence (A Woodlea Novel, #7)

by Alissa Callen

  He left Libby’s bedroom and walked into the kitchen. The aroma of freshly baked carrot cake filled the small and tidy space. Over on the bench, Ella was mixing icing in a bowl with a wooden spoon. Duke sat beside her watching her every move.

  Ella glanced at his empty hands, disappointment creasing her forehead. ‘You didn’t find anything either.’

  ‘Actually … I did.’

  Glass clunked on the pale stone bench as she abandoned the mixing bowl. ‘You did?’ As she rushed across the small kitchen, he had the impression she was going to hug him. Then she stopped an arm’s length away, her eyes a rich and vibrant brown.

  He nodded, losing the fight to stop himself from smiling at her excitement. ‘It’s on the bedside table.’

  He followed her into Libby’s bedroom. They stared at the collection of items on the narrow wooden table beside her bed. A black desk lamp stood next to a small box with a decorative lid, a pink water bottle, a horse book and a brush with a hairband twisted around the end.

  ‘It’s either the book or the box,’ Ella said, her words quiet.

  ‘Take a closer look at the box.’

  Ella picked up the small wooden box with the handcrafted lid. ‘I did look at this. Libby obviously made it and mosaicked the top. Inside there’s just some odds and ends.’

  The lid featured what looked like small round silver tiles printed with a fish design. The tiles had then been set in white grout and covered with a clear layer of glossy lacquer. Saul took his house keys from out of his pocket and tapped a tile. Instead of sounding solid, the sound emerged as tinny.

  Ella’s eyes rounded. She held the box up for a closer look. ‘These aren’t tiles.’ She tapped one with her fingernail.

  ‘No, they’re beer bottle tops. See the marlin, it’s still used on a beer label today.’

  Ella frowned. ‘Violet believed Libby didn’t drink.’

  ‘A teenage girl might drink this beer but it’s more like a beer Jeb would have drunk.’

  Ella went to sit on the single bed. She carefully tipped out what was inside the box. Saul took a seat on the other side of the tiny pile of items.

  Ella looked across at him. ‘Hypothetically … Libby had a crush on Jeb so she collected his beer bottle tops to decorate the lid on this box. Which means everything inside could then be more Jeb mementos.’

  Saul picked up a small yellow clip with a black number on it. ‘Libby was a farm girl and this is a cattle ear tag, so perfectly explainable but …’

  ‘But they can be worn on hats. In the picture of Jeb fishing he wore a wide-brimmed hat.’

  Ella picked up an item which was a cream hair ribbon with pink and green flowers. ‘Maybe this was worn when something significant happened between her and Jeb.’

  Saul held up a small lead ball with a hole through it before placing it back in the box. ‘This isn’t a bead, it’s a fishing sinker … Jeb’s fishing sinker.’

  ‘It also was probably Jeb’s fishing line tied to her sketchbook.’

  Ella returned a plastic white golf tee to the box. ‘I’ve never heard Violet mention anything about Lloyd playing golf, so again this could be Jeb’s.’

  Saul examined the final item which was an old Manly rugby league footy card. ‘Again there’s a high chance this is Jeb’s. There isn’t any other footy memorabilia anywhere.’

  Ella released a deep breath. ‘Violet will be able to confirm whether these could be a connection to Jeb. Not that this will really help because he’s not around anymore.’

  ‘I can come with you to see her?’

  ‘Thanks, but this time it’s something I need to do by myself.’ She hesitated then reached out to touch his arm. ‘Thank you. Your new eyes were invaluable.’

  He didn’t know if it was the brief warmth of her touch or the gratitude in her face, but the room felt airless and far too small. He came to his feet. ‘You’re welcome.’ Even to his own ears his reply sounded stiff.

  She too stood. This time when she looked at him there wasn’t any caution, just an unaccountable sadness. ‘I’ll let you know how I get on.’

  He turned away before being in Libby’s room not only revealed the teenager’s secrets, but his own.

  CHAPTER

  10

  So much for her Sunday morning to-do list. Ella sighed and ripped a page out of her notebook on which she’d planned to write down everything she needed to get done by mid-afternoon. She couldn’t even think of two things. She crumpled up the paper.

  It was only breakfast but already her thoughts were consumed by Saul. Her ability to focus was zero. She couldn’t stop thinking about him losing his son. Just like how looking at Libby’s box with fresh eyes had revealed an unexpected truth. So did looking at Saul.

  She’d known, from both his words and his reserve, that his broken marriage had left scars and they ran deep. But now she saw how much his anguish was embedded in who he was and how he acted. It was as though he had lost a part of himself.

  From day one he’d breached her defences and made her feel and it was time to put up a white flag. As much as she’d tried to run, the end result was inevitable. She was emotionally connected to him. She’d dedicated her life to healing animals and utilised any opportunity to help her friends and the Woodlea community. She shouldn’t now shy away from looking out for someone just because they made her heart beat too fast or they continued to be no good for her peace of mind.

  Cressy had been right to tell her about Saul’s son. When he’d come over yesterday afternoon to look at Libby’s room she’d been able to explain why she was late without any reference to having helped Cressy decide on nursery furniture. There would be future occasions where she could shield him from anything that might prove painful.

  She started a new list. At the top she wrote See Saul. Perhaps if she did this first, then she would be able to get on with the rest of her day.

  Last night when she’d visited Violet, the older woman had confirmed their suspicions. The only common denominator between the objects in the box was that they all could have belonged to Jeb. As much as the discovery had upset Violet, the knowledge Libby had undoubtedly possessed feelings for Jeb had given her a renewed sense of purpose.

  Violet had kept Libby’s handmade box and this week would go through her photograph albums to look for more clues. Violet had then asked if she could come out next Saturday to return the box to Libby’s room. Ella had answered with a hug. It meant so much that Violet was ready to see her family home again.

  Ella left her seat, put her empty breakfast plate on the sink and went to change into her usual fuss-free weekend outfit of mid-length denim shorts and a tank top. Then, grabbing her keys and the container filled with the carrot cake she’d baked yesterday, she headed out the door. She didn’t need to text Saul she was coming over. When she’d arrived home last night, she’d sent a quick message to let him know she’d drop around today to fill him in.

  She glanced at the container she carried. As for the cake, she’d meant to give it to him yesterday. When she’d been at Cressy’s at afternoon smoko Denham had said that carrot cake was Saul’s favourite. It was just a cake, and a casual gesture from one neighbour to another, but for her it was something practical she could do to help him. It felt important that he knew she was there for him.

  When she drove along the driveway, instead of racing her, Duke appeared on her right. As she stopped at her usual spot near the fence, her phone chimed. Saul had seen her and had texted to let her know he was at the stables. She followed the road around to where he was lunging a buckskin mare in the sandy arena. Duke ran ahead, every so often looking over his shoulder as if to make sure she was behind him.

  When she’d left her four-wheel drive to give Duke a pat, Saul sent her a nod. The buckskin cantered around him for another circle before he slowed her to a trot, then a walk and brought her in to him. He led her over to the arena fence.

  Eyes bright and ears forward, the mare extended her nose towards Ella.
<
br />   ‘Hello, beautiful girl,’ she said as she ran her hand over the buckskin’s forehead. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Amber,’ Saul said with a brief smile. Today he wore sunglasses and a cap pulled low that hid his expression and drew her attention to the stubbled line of his jaw. She had trouble looking away. He had such a beautifully shaped mouth.

  A whinny sounded from the paddock to their left where Cisco paced up and down the fence line.

  Saul looked between Ella and the pinto gelding. ‘I’m taking Amber down to the river, if you’d like to ride Cisco. We can talk about Violet on the way.’

  Ella couldn’t hide her delight or her smile. Her last ride had been with Cressy before she’d headed out west to help after the bushfires. ‘Give me five minutes to throw on some jeans.’

  ‘There’s no rush.’

  ‘I meant to give you a carrot cake yesterday … shall I drop it off on the way past?’

  He didn’t immediately answer, but then he smiled and this time it lingered. ‘Thanks.’

  When Ella took the cake inside Saul’s farmhouse she was surprised there were no longer boxes lining the wide hallway. He had unpacked. As she walked past the living room a cluster of photos sat on a sideboard. Her steps slowed. The pictures all appeared to be of Rosie and her parents. His strength humbled her. His sister-in-law’s pregnancy would have to be a difficult time and yet he’d sounded genuinely happy for her and his brother.

  After she left the cake on the kitchen bench, she went home to change into jeans, boots and a blue long-sleeved shirt. Just as well the milder temperatures continued and today would provide a further respite from the extreme heat. Otherwise the idea of having a mid-morning ride would have been insanity. As it was, the feeling grew that while she and Saul were easing into a comfortable friendship, spending time with him, even to offer support, could also be considered a form of madness.

  When she returned to the stables, Cisco was saddled and tied next to Amber at a low rail. The gelding turned his head as she approached and she patted his black-and-white neck before adjusting the length of her stirrups. She breathed in the familiar smell of leather and horses. Such scents were a beloved memory from her childhood and of a time when her world had been complete. She’d grown up on a small coastal farm and riding horses along the beach had been a favourite family activity.

  Saul emerged from the stables with Duke beside him. ‘All set?’

  She nodded before unclipping Cisco and swinging into the saddle.

  The horses’ hooves crunched on gravel as they followed the road past the farmhouse to the laneway that ran alongside the boundary fence. The double gates were open and Duke raced ahead. Inquisitive bison lumbered over to watch them pass. The scent of eucalyptus tinged the breeze and a trio of pink-and-grey galahs landed on the concrete edges of a nearby water trough. They dipped their beaks into the clear water.

  Ella relaxed into the saddle. The sun warmed her back and Cisco had a soft mouth and a smooth and comfortable gait. Saul too appeared at ease as he rode alongside her.

  ‘Your text said Violet was okay?’ he asked, after a sideways glance.

  ‘As much as she can be. She’s coming for lunch next Sunday and I was wondering if you’d like to come too?’

  ‘I would. It could be difficult for her to see her old home.’

  ‘That’s what I was thinking.’

  Once through the laneway, the paddocks rolled into an alluvial plateau that once would have been irrigated lucerne flats. A line of trees ahead marked the winding course of the river. White gleamed as cockatoos flittered in and out of the treetops.

  ‘I’m not sure what’s noisier, cockatoos or guinea fowls,’ Saul said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin.

  Ella was spared a reply when cockatoos flew overhead, their screeches raucous and loud.

  The heat on her shoulders was soon replaced by the cool of shade as they wound their way through the ancient red river gums. Their thick, swirled trunks stretched into smooth slim branches that swayed over the water.

  Saul whistled for Duke to stay near as a wild duck and her ducklings slid into the river shallows. Duke glanced at the ducks but his interest remained on something further along the bank. When his loose-limbed gait became a low-to-the-ground stalk, Saul whistled again and the Australian shepherd returned to his side.

  ‘Call me paranoid,’ Ella said, scanning the coarse river sand, ‘but I keep imagining snakes everywhere.’

  They rounded the bend and brought their horses to a sudden stop. Lying close to the water’s edge was a lifeless kangaroo. Saul spoke to Duke in a low voice so he wouldn’t dart forwards. From the injuries to the kangaroo’s shoulder, it looked as though she’d been hit by a car or a truck on the road that ran past the two farms. She’d then made it to the peace and tranquillity of the river.

  Ella slid from the saddle. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet. If the kangaroo had a joey and it had survived it could still be alive inside the mother’s pouch. Saul leaned over to take hold of Cisco’s reins. He knew without her having to say anything what she needed to do.

  She took her time to feel inside the kangaroo’s pouch. If there was a joey, she only hoped it wasn’t furless and attached to the mother’s teat. She stilled as her fingers encountered soft fur and tiny bones and sinews that quivered at her touch. She turned to nod at Saul.

  Movement sounded as the horses walked a short distance. Then Saul’s footsteps approached. Intent on determining where the joey’s small mouth was, she didn’t realise he’d shrugged off his shirt until she saw the flash of cobalt-blue from the corner of her eye.

  Once she removed the joey it needed to be cocooned and kept warm. Saul’s shirt would be perfect and the only practical thing they had, unless she volunteered her own shirt. When she was sure the joey wasn’t attached to his mother, she carefully eased him out and into the shirt Saul had formed into a makeshift pouch.

  She straightened and held the shirt-wrapped joey close. The action was as much to allow the joey to feel her heartbeat as to provide a barrier between her and Saul. As much as her hormones were happy to travel back with a half-naked Saul, her self-preservation wasn’t so ecstatic. It had already proved impossible to delete memories of him in his grey T-shirt, wet and with his dark hair tousled.

  He stood still and silent, his arms by his side and his work-honed torso dappled by shade. Not wanting to be caught staring, or for her reaction to be televised across her face, she focused on a scar that curved over his left hip.

  ‘Bison horn?’

  ‘Mountain lion.’

  Her attention flew to his face but his sunglasses shielded his eyes. ‘They don’t usually bother humans but a young male didn’t appreciate me helping his elk-calf dinner out of a fence.’

  ‘Were you both okay?’

  ‘He jumped me from behind. But once I knew he was there everything was fine. I had bear spray in my coat pocket.’

  Ella looked at the scar again. She knew how long physical wounds could take to heal. It was the mental ones she was still dealing with. ‘I’m not so sure snakes are that bad after all.’

  Saul smiled and strode over to the horses where he’d secured their reins to a fallen tree. Ella took a long moment to follow. Saul standing in front of her had been a work of masculine art. But Saul moving with corded muscles rippling beneath smooth, tanned skin made her head feel light.

  When he turned to see where she was, she walked faster and handed him the bundled joey. Once in Cisco’s saddle she looked down. Her heart clenched. The careful way Saul cradled the joey would have been how he’d once held his son.

  ‘I can take him now.’

  Saul passed her the bundled shirt, but not before a muscle worked in his cheek. He swung into the saddle. ‘I’ll come back in the farm ute and move the kangaroo before the wild dogs get to her.’

  ‘I’ll call Sue. She’s our local injured wildlife carer and will have the right milk. It’s not a very well-known fact that kangaroos a
re lactose intolerant.’

  Realising she was talking too much, she bit the inside of her cheek. Nothing screamed out-of-control more than incessant rambling. The sooner Saul had a shirt on the better. She risked another sideways glance but this time at his face. Just like at the hay bale challenge when they’d stood side by side being photographed, his profile was a carved immobile line. Holding the joey had unsettled him.

  She swallowed as her own emotions stirred. Baking Saul a cake wasn’t what he really needed. It was friendship and unconditional support. He’d taken a risk and disclosed that his failed marriage was the reason behind him not wanting a relationship. She had opened up about her brother, but was yet to explain why she too only wanted friendship. She needed to return Saul’s trust and to show him that he was just as safe with her as she was with him.

  She steadied her breathing before she spoke. ‘Saul …’

  Something in her voice must have warned him that what she was going to say wasn’t more waffle. He turned to look at her.

  She spoke before her nerve failed her. ‘I owe you an explanation.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ He didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about.

  ‘It’s only fair. Plus, just like you said, I want to.’

  He slowly nodded.

  She stared at a point on the track between Cisco’s black-and-white ears. ‘The short version of why I prefer being on my own is that when I was working in England, I met someone. It was serious. We broke up.’

  She sensed rather than saw Saul search her face from behind his dark sunglasses. He stayed silent, allowing her to talk.

  Still not looking at him, she continued. ‘The slightly longer version is that I made … an error in judgement that didn’t just hurt me but also Charles.’

  She hadn’t realised she’d adjusted her hold on the joey so she could rub her right thigh until Saul looked at her hand.

  ‘Ella … I don’t need to know details, but what I do know is that you’re a decent and honourable person. You would have made what you thought was the best decision at the time.’