The Long Paddock, page 12
‘She was.’
As Ella let herself into Jazz’s stall, Denham carried the salt licks into the tack room. There was no point putting them in the shed. He’d use them soon. He busied himself reassembling the stock saddle he’d cleaned earlier. Ella and Cressy wouldn’t need him while Ella checked Jazz over.
Tippy padded into the tack room. With a sigh she sank to the floor and settled her head on her paws. The tan patches above her eyebrows drew together as she watched him. He gentled the movements of his hands as he threaded the stirrup leather through the gap in the top of the heavy metal stirrup. Tippy had picked up that he wasn’t as relaxed as he’d been earlier.
Ella’s heads up about Shaun had left him uneasy, not for himself but for Cressy. Shaun and his ego were trouble. If the bush telegraph was right and they’d once been serious and he now wanted her back, Cressy could be in for a rough ride.
Voices sounded outside Jazz’s stall and he left the tack room to join Cressy and Ella.
‘All good?’ he asked as he drew near.
‘Yes,’ Ella said. ‘She’s doing well. Hugh’s in town in two days so will come and see her. I’ve told him she might need a few chiropractic adjustments.’
‘She’ll feel even better once Hugh’s seen her.’
Denham glanced over to where Cressy had moved away to rub beneath Flame’s forelock as the chestnut again hung her head over the half-stable door.
Ella turned slightly to see where Denham had looked. ‘She will. I’ve wormed her and applied more eye ointment. I’ll check on her again when out this way to see the Higgins’ mare. Her foal has to arrive soon.’
‘Thanks.’ Denham reached into his shirt pocket as his phone burst into life with the chorus of a country music song. ‘Excuse me.’ He turned away to give directions to the truckie delivering his cattle.
When the call ended, he faced Ella again. Cressy now stood beside her.
‘Morning smoko will have to wait a little longer?’ Cressy asked.
‘Yes. The truckie made good time. I’ll go and open the double-gates for him.’ He looked between Cressy and Ella. Just like the kids he’d see in line waiting to talk to Santa, the two women before him wore a similar expression of anticipation. ‘You’re welcome to come and see them.’
Cressy and Ella exchanged grins before Ella checked her watch. ‘I’ve time. I’ve never seen cows with bucking blood.’
Cressy whistled Tippy to her side. ‘We’re coming too. I can’t wait to see Reggie’s new girlfriends.’
Ten minutes later, the double-gates were open and Denham drove over to where Ella’s vehicle was parked in the shade beneath a large box tree. Two nearby trees provided shade for the smaller yards directly behind the bucking chute. Beyond the chute, sunlight glinted on the steel of the large circular fence. In the lonely pre-dawn hours of his years away, he’d planned and pictured the yards he’d one day build at Claremont. His chest tightened. Here they were.
Now all he needed were the best bloodlines to breed the best bucking bulls. The chug of a diesel engine filled the quiet and he left his ute. He nodded at Cressy and Ella who leaned against the front of the white vet vehicle. Tippy sat beside Cressy’s boots, eyes on the incoming truck. The old kelpie knew what the arrival of a truck meant: there’d be cattle to work.
The truckie drove through the wide open gates and noses of all colours appeared through the gaps in the truck sides. His herd of cows and heifers were like liquorice allsorts, they represented all different breeds, colours and shapes. But a single fact united them, they were either daughters, sisters or granddaughters of proven bucking bulls.
The truck reversed towards the loading ramp and the methane smell of cattle carried on the breeze. Restless hooves connected with metal before the trailer air-brakes hissed. Tippy whined. Beneath the truck crates, two liver-coloured kelpies peered out of the dog boxes.
Denham approached. After a quick word with the grizzled truckie, they set about unloading the cattle cargo. Metal grated as the driver slid the rear door to the lower deck open. Denham positioned himself to the side to help if needed. For a moment nothing happened, then a grey head and shoulders emerged. The cow hesitated and then charged down the ramp, along the narrow race and into the bigger yard. Hooves clattered as other cows jostled to follow. Soon a flood of cattle poured down the ramp. Black and white bodies followed the russet brown of Herefords and the dark grey of Brahman crosses.
When the momentum stopped, the driver walked up the ramp and into the truck. Whistles and calls sounded before the last of the lower deck cows rushed out to join the others. The driver pressed a button at the rear of the truck to lower the internal ramp. Soon the cattle from off the top deck were also in the yards.
Denham thanked the truckie who was keen to head off. He then moved to the yard fence and rested his boot on the bottom rung. Cressy and Ella joined him. Dust lifted as the cows and heifers milled and jostled.
Ella was the first to speak. ‘What beauties. They look in good condition and have travelled well. I’d love to take a look at their bloodlines.’
‘Any time,’ Denham said, conscious that Cressy had glanced at him before she’d examined the cattle.
‘Reggie will be in bull heaven,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’ll bring him around this afternoon, if you’d like?’
‘Thanks. Or I could come and get him?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll bring him. He’s never travelled in any truck but mine.’
‘No worries.’
Ella stepped away from the fence. ‘I’d like to stay longer but had better head to town. Need a ride to your ute, Cress?’
‘Thanks.’ Cressy’s hazel eyes briefly met his. ‘See you this afternoon.’
Denham nodded and rubbed Tippy’s ears before the kelpie bounded away. He stared at the cows who were the key to his future and who continued to stare back.
He didn’t turn as Ella drove by but at the last moment he swung around to catch a final glimpse of Cressy in the passenger seat.
CHAPTER
9
The cold air from the open refrigerator washed over Cressy, but she didn’t close the door. Instead she stared at the vegetable crisper that was usually full with carrots and now contained half a bag. There wasn’t any need for carrots with Reggie gone.
She collected the milk bottle and allowed the door to swing closed. This was only the third day of Reggie being over at Claremont and she already missed him. Having him gone had left a huge hole in her world. She hadn’t realised how much she talked to him during their daily carrot-feeding ritual. She disclosed things she’d never mention to anyone, even Fliss, Ella and Sue. She vented when she was in a bad mood and she celebrated when things went well.
It wasn’t only Reggie she missed. These past few days she missed Denham too. She poured milk into her tea and returned the bottle to the fridge. Even after overhearing Denham’s phone conversation with a mystery woman, she was no closer to being over him than she was on the day he left. Not after seeing his gentleness with Jazz, and his quiet pride at his rodeo herd. The feeling grew that perhaps Ella was right. If she didn’t want to live an empty life full of regrets she needed to go after what she wanted, regardless of the risks.
She picked up her mug of tea but didn’t take a sip. This weekend’s fundraising dinner would be a perfect place to relax and to have some fun. The event could also give her a chance to discover if there was anything left between her and Denham to fight for. His apology, and her explanation about why their moment had happened, appeared to have erased all awkwardness between them and he no longer kept his distance.
Her mobile rang from over near the microwave. She unhooked the phone from the charger and answered.
‘Hi, Denham.’
She prayed her greeting didn’t sound breathless.
‘Hi, Cressy. We have a problem.’
The heat in her cheeks faded at both his words and his serious tone.
‘Is it Reggie?’
‘I’m sorry, it is. He’s not here. We’ve searched but we can’t find him.’
‘Not in the garden, not in another paddock, not anywhere?’
Denham’s deep sigh travelled down the phone line. ‘Nowhere.’
From outside near the shed, Tippy’s frenzied barking sounded.
‘Denham,’ Cressy spoke quickly. ‘Can I call you back? I think Tippy has a snake.’
‘Of course. Be careful.’
Cressy ended the call, pushed through the kitchen door, pulled on her boots and ran along the dusty path to the shed. They’d once lost her mother’s favourite Jack Russell to a snake bite. She’d never forget Midge killing a brown snake and running over to check they were safe, before collapsing.
Cressy ran faster. Ragged breaths tore from her lungs. If it was an eastern brown and Tippy was bitten, she had a thirty-minute window to get her to Ella and a dose of anti-venom. The drive to town was forty-five.
She rounded the corner of the shed and all thoughts of snakes fled. Her heart rate stabilised. It wasn’t a reptile threatening Tippy’s territory, just a big, grey, Brahman cross bull.
‘Tippy, it’s okay. Reggie’s having breakfast.’
At her words Tippy quietened. Reggie stopped munching on the round bale in the shed and turned his heavy head to look at her.
She walked over and scratched his poll. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ She glanced around the enclosed yard in which all gates were closed. ‘I had no idea you could jump fences.’
Reggie took another mouthful of hay.
‘You know you have to go back?’
The bull chewed, unconcerned.
‘I made a deal with Denham. He worked all week here and now you have to hang out with his rodeo cows at his place. I’d better let him know where you are.’ She gave Reggie another scratch. ‘Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back soon.’
As she headed through the dust-bowl that had once been a garden, it registered that Denham’s last words had been ‘be careful’. Her steps slowed. She’d be a fool to read anything into his instruction other than neighbourly worry. But at the same time his concern made her heart light.
She re-entered the kitchen and dialled his number. He answered after the first ring.
‘Everything okay?’
She took a second to speak; the rawness of his voice went over and beyond neighbourly concern.
‘Yes, all good. No snake, just one hay-raiding bull.’
‘In your shed paddock?’
‘Yes and all the gates are shut. I know athleticism will be a good trait in his offspring but don’t blame me if his calves also inherit a fence-jumping gene.’
Denham chuckled. ‘I won’t. I’ll just build taller fences. Has he jumped fences before?’
‘No, he hasn’t. He’s never even escaped his paddock.’
‘Well, this time he’s jumped at least four fences to get to you.’
‘I know. I wouldn’t even think he’d know the way home. Actually … as a calf he would have grazed on the river flats. If he got to there, he’d know his way back.’
‘The question is, will he stay if he comes here again?’
‘I hope so. I told him he has to. I’ll bring him back over soon.’
‘I could move the cows nearer to the homestead so I can keep a closer eye on them?’
‘That might work. It also will be easier for you to give him his daily carrots.’
Silence.
‘Denham, you still there?’
‘Yes. You said to feed him carrots but didn’t say how often.’
‘Sorry. He needs to be fed carrots every day. When did you last give him some?’
‘The day he arrived.’
Cressy smiled. ‘There’s the answer as to why he left. He wants his carrots.’
‘Seriously?’
Cressy’s smile grew. She could imagine Denham shaking his dark head. ‘Seriously. He has to have them every day. If he does, I’m sure he’ll stay.’
‘Every day?’
‘Yes. Now might also be a good time to tell you sometimes I brush him as well.’
Denham groaned.
***
Cressy backed her small and ancient cattle-truck up to Claremont’s loading ramp. Denham’s rodeo cows were already in the yards so Reggie would feel at home when he returned. Denham parked his Land Cruiser ute beside her. From the height of the truck cabin she had a clear view into the passenger seat on which sat a small red bucket filled with cut carrots. Denham wasn’t taking any chances with Reggie again.
She opened the cabin door and Tippy leapt to the ground, making a beeline for Denham. She unloaded Reggie and followed him into the yard. He looked between her and the cows before ambling over to her.
She scratched his neck and he stepped in close to lift his head for her to rub his favourite spot under his chin.
‘Denham’s promised to feed you carrots every day. You also have friends to hang out with and paddocks of green grass to eat. You have everything you need right here so there’s no excuse to leave again.’
Reggie blew a warm breath against her cheek and she gave him a tight hug around his neck. He was far more than an ugly and misunderstood bull. His unconditional love was the one constant in her unpredictable world.
Denham entered the yard via the small gate beside the loading ramp. He didn’t carry the red bucket but the pocket of his blue checked shirt bulged. He walked up to Reggie and offered him a carrot. The bull stared at him before sniffing his palm and slowly munching on the treat. Denham rubbed between his horns.
‘You and I are going to be best buddies from now on.’
The bull nudged his hand, demanding more carrots.
Cressy folded her arms against the emotions stirring in her chest. Any potential partner for her or Fliss had to pass the Reggie test. And Denham just had. Not that she’d be telling Fliss in a hurry. She already worried far too much. She’d have a quiet word to her when she arrived to reassure her that the Denham situation was under control. A what-is-going-on talk between Fliss and Denham would only complicate things further. There’d already been enough awkwardness between them.
Denham left Reggie to open the yard gate. The bull followed and walked into the adjacent yard to join the rodeo cattle. The way he bossed the cows around let Cressy know he was glad to be amongst friends. At Glenmore he’d been in his own paddock separated from the Black Angus breeding cows she’d held on to. With no feed and no prospect of rain, she hadn’t wanted any calves.
She joined Denham as he closed the steel gate.
‘See,’ she said, examining the faces of the closest cows, ‘not all of your cows have high whorls on their foreheads. Reggie’s whorl can’t be a sign of potential bad behaviour.’
Denham’s grin flashed white. ‘Like fence jumping …’
Cressy couldn’t temper her own smile. ‘Okay. True. But I’d call that determination and ingenuity rather than bad behaviour.’
‘Or a carrot addiction.’ Denham ruffled Tippy’s head. ‘Like to help me move Reggie and his harem into their new paddock?’ Tippy wriggled in excitement.
Denham cast Cressy an unreadable look. ‘Maybe you could both stay for lunch? Phil’s coming over and Meredith said there’s plenty of food for you too.’
Cressy hesitated. She didn’t want to jeopardise the fragile companionship that again appeared to connect them. A workable co-existence was dependent upon minimal contact. But at the same time she didn’t want to appear rude or ungrateful. Meredith prided herself on her hospitality and would prepare lunch for Cressy whether she appeared or not.
‘Meredith also said she has those cookies for Fliss,’ Denham added, his gaze never leaving hers.
Cressy sighed. ‘I had a feeling I’d forgotten something the other day. When Ella dropped me back, I drove off without giving the jam drops a second thought.’
The truth was thoughts of Denham had distracted her. The light in his blue eyes as he’d stared at his cattle had reminded her that she hadn’t seen such hope, such peace, in him since Jake had died. And knowing the new cattle had brought him happiness had made her happy too.
She looked to where Tippy sat close beside Denham’s cowboy boots. ‘We’d love to come for lunch, wouldn’t we, Tip?’
‘Great. Phil was only saying he hadn’t seen you for a while.’
She searched Denham’s tanned face. ‘Has he been coming over for lunch often?’
‘Yes.’ The corners of Denham’s mouth curved. ‘Not that I’m complaining.
He’s a good man and Meredith has always been like a mother to me.’
‘She has, which is lovely for the both of you. If anyone was meant to be a mum, it was Meredith. She’s always loved you like a son.’
Denham nodded, an indefinable expression clouding his eyes. For a second she thought he would speak and then he turned to look towards the yards. ‘Tippy and I had better get busy and move these cows.’
‘Okay. I’ll say a final goodbye to Reggie and look in on Jazz before lunch.’
She gave Tippy a quick pat before the kelpie dashed after Denham.
On her way past his ute, she scooped a handful of carrots from out of the bucket on the passenger seat. He wouldn’t mind.
Ten minutes later, she’d wished she’d grabbed two handfuls.
‘You sure do like carrots, don’t you?’ Cressy said to the grey mare as she nuzzled Cressy’s empty palm. ‘I’m sorry, beautiful, they’re all gone. I’ll bring you some more soon.’
She ran her hand over Jazz’s nose. What a difference three days made. Her right eyelid was no longer swollen and her large eyes were clear and bright. Cuts still marred her legs and chest but she moved with ease.
‘How about I give you a quick brush instead of more carrots?’
Cressy raided the tack room for a grooming brush and let herself into Jazz’s stall. She passed the brush over the mare’s dappled-grey neck and Jazz sighed.
‘You like that too, do you?’
Cressy smiled and lost herself in the scent of horses, hay and the simple delights of her childhood. When her grandfather had been alive, they’d always had horses at Glenmore. Fat and stubborn grey ponies had given way to responsive galloways and then long-legged stock horses. She missed not seeing curious heads poke over the stable doors. She also missed the sight of horses running free in the paddocks.
