The Long Paddock, page 16
The homestead came into sight and Kevin’s welcome calls sounded. She parked the ute in the shed and collected her esky from the kitchen. Stomach tight, she paused on the veranda to look over the home she loved. The only movement in the bleached-brown canvas was a low spiral of dust.
The season already felt like it had shifted into summer, signalling the return of El Nino. Surely there had to be some more spring storms before the weather pattern that could send the district back into drought took hold? Denham had reassured her that it would rain and that everything would be okay. She had to hold onto his conviction. Many things could happen in two weeks besides giving her bare paddocks a break and filling her cattle’s stomachs with grass.
She headed to the paddock closest to the road where she’d moved her Black Angus herd yesterday. Cattle had an ingrained herd instinct to follow the leader and she was counting on placid and wise Bessie to be a calming influence. As she’d hoped, Bessie led the younger, more flighty heifers through the gate. Dust clung to their hooves as they made their sedate way along the boundary fence and across the dry creek bed.
When Cressy was certain the herd were content to amble, she whistled Tippy inside the ute. Once they reached the wide strip of crown land beside the tarred road, the cattle’s pace quickened. As green tinged the bare red earth and then thickened into clumps, the cattle lowered their heads to snatch at the grass.
‘Look at that, Tip, they don’t know where to look there’s so much feed.’
She pushed the herd a little further along before setting up black and yellow roadside signs to alert motorists there was stock ahead.
By lunchtime they’d reached the halfway mark of the distance they needed to travel that day. By mid-afternoon, Cressy glimpsed the white of the caravan she’d parked near a creek bend. They reached the peaceful and shaded area just as the sun dipped in the sky. The cattle took a drink in the creek, the heifers wading into the water up to their knees. After the herd was settled in their holding yard, Cressy turned her attention to herself and Tippy.
‘Right, Tip, what shall we do for our first night here? Cook in the caravan or have a campfire?’
Tippy wagged her tail.
Cressy grinned. ‘You don’t really care how I cook as long as you eat, do you?’ She ruffled the kelpie’s neck. ‘Let’s celebrate the end of our first day with a fire. We haven’t had one for so long because it’s been so dry at home. I’m sure I threw in a pack of marshmallows somewhere.’
As Cressy set a small fire in the pool of light thrown from the lantern on the back of her ute, two cars roared past. Even though the wooded creek area was tucked off the road, from the volume of the engines both cars had been travelling fast. Today she’d been lucky and had only encountered considerate drivers. She mightn’t be so fortunate tomorrow.
Another car sounded, then slowed, before twin beams of light shone her way.
Cressy whistled Tippy to her side. As the driver approached Cressy could see the shape of an unfamiliar blue ute. She checked her jeans pocket to ensure her phone would be handy. She might have grown up within the warm embrace of bush hospitality but she wasn’t so naive as to trust everyone.
She touched Tippy’s head and registered the kelpie’s tension in her rigid stance.
‘It’ll be fine, Tip.’
The ute rolled to a stop. The engine quietened and the pulse of cicadas in the trees beside them filled the night.
A tall man exited the driver’s side seat and in the light from her lantern she registered the easy way he moved. He turned towards her and she recognised the drover she’d seen at the market day.
The tension leached from Tippy’s stiff body, reassuring Cressy that her instincts were right. This man might be a stranger but he didn’t pose any threat.
‘Hi,’ the drover said as he approached. ‘Sorry to call in so late. I’m Tanner.’
‘Hi.’ She stepped forward to offer her hand. ‘I’m Cressy. What can I do for you?’
His handshake was smooth and respectful before his arm lowered. ‘I think we’ve briefly met before?’ He glanced towards her farm ute. ‘Do you also drive a silver SV6 ute?’
‘I do and yes, I saw you out here with your cattle some weeks ago.’
He nodded. ‘That’s why I’ve stopped. I wanted to give you the heads up it wasn’t just city drivers in fancy red cars I had trouble with. There’s also local blokes who use this section of the stock route for dirt bike riding, sometimes at dusk. They’ve set up some sort of track with jumps.’
‘That’s good to know. My cattle are pretty quiet so shouldn’t spook easily but then again this is the first time they’ve left the farm.’
‘If you have any trouble, I’m not far away at the old Collins’ place.’
‘Thanks but Tippy and I will be fine.’
Tanner smiled his slow smile again. ‘I have no doubt you will be.’
She’d liked the way Tanner had put his cattle first when she’d seen him droving. Now, she liked his perceptiveness. He knew she could take care of herself. She returned his smile. ‘I heard the Collins’ place had been leased. So you’re not on the road anymore?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m taking a break. I like it around here so thought I’d stay for a while. I also heard there’s a campdraft coming up?’
‘Yes, it’s held at the same time as the rodeo in two weeks.’
‘Great. Arrow is getting far too lazy now he’s not droving. We might enter.’
‘Is he your palomino?’ she asked as Tippy sidled towards Tanner for a pat.
‘Yes, technically.’ Tanner grinned and tickled behind Tippy’s ears. ‘But he’s an American mustang so no-one really owns him.’
‘He sounds like another free spirit I know called Bandit. Did you train him?’
Tippy rolled onto her back and Tanner rubbed her belly with the toe of his boot. ‘Yes, I spent time working with mustangs in Montana.’
‘You need to meet Denham Rigby. He also spent time in Montana.’
‘The rodeo champion? His name has been mentioned a few times around town.’
Cressy smiled. ‘I bet it has. Woodlea is very proud of its favourite son.’
Tanner gave Tippy a last belly rub before nodding towards Cressy’s unlit fire. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your dinner in peace.’
‘No worries, and thanks for the heads up about the bikes. How about we swap numbers? The rodeo weekend’s a lot of fun and I can let you know if we make it to the Royal Arms or to the dance. Then you can meet Denham.’
‘Thanks. I’d like that. It’s been a long time since I stayed in one place. It’s also been a while since I went to the pub and didn’t sit on my own.’
The shadows masked Tanner’s face but not the trace of loneliness in his voice.
They exchanged mobile numbers and then with a farewell smile the drover returned to his ute.
***
Two hours later, when the embers of her campfire glowed dull red and the stars blazed above her, Cressy lay awake in her swag. She’d thought Tanner had seemed familiar when she’d seen him droving cattle but she still couldn’t pinpoint who he reminded her of. There was something about how he carried himself and the cast of his wide shoulders that reminded her of someone. The Barton twins had similar dark-blonde hair and tanned skin but there the resemblance ended. Beside her, her mobile vibrated, the screen lighting up the darkness with Denham’s name.
She rolled onto her side to answer the call, dislodging Tippy who slept against her legs.
‘Sorry, Tip,’ she said before she spoke into the phone. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’ Denham’s deep voice swept through her, stealing her breath. ‘How was your first day?’
She took her cue from his casual words to limit their conversation to safe topics. A phone call wasn’t the place to revisit their kiss.
‘Today went well, thanks. Bessie’s a gem. It’s like she’s been out droving all her life. How’s Reggie and Jazz?’
‘Both are good.’ Denham paused. ‘Cressy, I’ve been doing some bookwork and a little digging into the river flats sale.’
‘And …’
‘And … it took a while, there was a maze of trusts to wade through, but I found the sales record.’
She eased herself into a sitting position. Something wasn’t right. Denham’s tone was too grave.
‘My father,’ Denham continued, ‘paid three times the value of the river flats.’
‘What? Three times? That’s a huge amount of money. Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why would he do such a thing? Our fathers weren’t even friends.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll look into it my end but the books were in such a shambles when Dad died I’m not sure I’ll discover much. I’ll also talk to Fliss.’
‘It’s not important but I just thought you might like to know.’
‘Thanks, I do. It’s still a mystery why Dad sold the river flats in the first place.’ She hesitated. ‘Denham, I can’t pay that much money to buy them back.’
‘I’d never expect you to.’ She heard a smile in his voice. ‘At that price you could buy Claremont.’
She laughed softly. Only humble Denham would say such a thing. Historic Claremont was worth more than ten river flats.
‘Night, Cressy.’
His husky words caused a wave of loneliness and longing to rush over her. She took a moment to reply. ‘Night.’
Phone call over, she rested her mobile beside her. Fragments of a long-forgotten conversation filtered through her memories. At the time her mother’s broken accusation that their father had jeopardised her and Fliss’s future didn’t make sense. Perhaps it would now?
Unease coiled within her chest and she lay back in her swag to stare at the blanket of tiny stars.
What had her father done?
***
‘You do know torches will also help you see in the dark?’ Rose asked Denham as she scanned the fifth packet of carrots spread across the grocery store counter.
He passed the grinning teenager the final two bags. This was the second time he’d cleaned the Woodlea grocery store out of carrots.
‘I do. But I don’t think Reggie likes torches as much as he does carrots.’
Rose giggled. ‘Does he really have them every day?’
‘Yes, and if I’m late he’s waiting at the gate, pawing at the ground.’
Rose’s eyes widened. ‘Do you go into the paddock with him? I’ve heard if you wear red he’ll charge at you.’
Denham passed Rose the money for the carrots. ‘Hasn’t your mum told you not to believe everything you hear?’
‘She has but Pete told me and he knows what he’s talking about. Reggie’s chased him.’
‘Has he now?’
‘Yes, but not at your place,’ Rose quickly added before looking around the store. When she was sure it was empty, she spoke again. ‘You know, Pete’s … all right.’
Denham nodded and waited for Rose to continue. He guessed ‘all right’ meant that Rose thought Pete was far more than just all right.
‘I don’t want to see him get hurt.’
Denham again nodded. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was headed.
Rose twirled the ends of her long blonde ponytail around her fingers. ‘There’s talk … that now Reggie’s at your place it will be easy to get him into your bucking chutes and ride him.’
Denham made sure his reaction didn’t show on his face. His stomach knotted at the thought of what could go wrong with such a plan—for Reggie as well as the teenage boys. He’d swing by Woodlea Rural and purchase some heavy-duty padlocks and no trespassing signs.
‘You and I both know that such a plan isn’t a good one.’
Rose nodded, her fingers still twirling her hair. ‘It’s not.’
‘How about you put it around town that if I hear of, or see, anyone messing with Reggie I’ll personally pay them and their parents a visit. I also won’t be happy having anyone trespassing on my place.’
Rose’s eyes rounded before she nodded. ‘That’ll work. Pete respects you. He watches your rides on the internet. Also, no offence, but when you frown you’re totally scary.’
Denham collected his grocery bags with a smile.
He loaded the carrots into his ute and headed around to Woodlea Rural. He slowed as he passed the Main Street sign. The once metal pole was now wrapped in knitted cowboy boots and hats. The mystery yarn-bombers were preparing for the annual rodeo and campdraft weekend.
He pulled up alongside Shaun’s glossy dark ute. The impractical vehicle looked like it’d just been driven off the showroom floor. If the man paid as much attention to who Cressy really was, then he might have once had a chance with her. Denham entered the building but Shaun was nowhere to be seen. He gathered what he needed and paid for the items. When he returned outside he found Shaun leaning against his black ute, arms folded.
‘Shaun,’ Denham said with a nod as he approached.
‘Denham.’
The other man’s tone was devoid of all charm. With no audience Shaun didn’t bother to mask his antagonism. Denham stopped in front of him. Shaun’s blue gaze could have belonged to any Rigby family member, except his eyes were filled with the heat of emotion.
‘You might be the local town hero.’ Shaun didn’t even try for civility. His lip curled. ‘But Cressy was better off without you.’
Denham repressed a flinch. Shaun was only saying what he already knew.
‘I agree.’
Shaun’s eyes narrowed. ‘You agree?’
‘I do. That’s why I’m here and Cressy’s by herself out on the long paddock. If I deserved her, I can guarantee I’d be out there too. I wouldn’t spend another day away from her.’
Shaun scowled. ‘So you’ll not stand in my way?’
Denham stifled a sigh. Beneath Shaun’s ego a decent man possibly lurked, but that still didn’t make him right for Cressy. He also had no idea about women if he’d missed her obvious signals that she wasn’t interested. ‘No, I will. You don’t deserve her either.’
The hot flash of temper marred Shaun’s handsome face. His hands clenched. Denham stood relaxed and still. He never sought trouble but if it came his way he was ready. There was an arrogant Wyoming cowboy whose jaw would ache every winter because he’d mistaken Denham’s calmness for cowardice.
‘I’ll let Cressy be the judge of that.’ Shaun’s mouth barely moved as he spoke.
‘Fair enough.’
Denham turned to open his ute door. If Shaun was going to throw a punch he’d have done so by now. Shaun had said his piece and he wasn’t going to waste any more time listening.
Denham left the Woodlea Rural car park and turned right at the post office to head home. As he sped past the windmills that signalled he’d left Shaun and the town limits behind, he didn’t relax. Unease gnawed at his gut. He’d done the worst possible thing by telling the agronomist he didn’t deserve Cressy. Their rivalry over the cowgirl had just gone up a gear. Shaun would be even more determined to make her his and he’d now have a point to prove.
Denham reached Claremont and as he drove along the poplar tree–lined driveway, Flame and Jazz raced alongside the fence. Their manes and tails lifted in the breeze. The grey mare continued to respond well to the ground work they did every day and had settled into her new bit. No longer did she toss her head or chomp on the mouthpiece. The next step was for Cressy to ride her.
He rubbed a hand behind his stiff neck. But he was holding off on taking Jazz out to the long paddock. He didn’t want to appear too eager to see Cressy after their kiss. He couldn’t forget the cowgirl wasn’t his and never could be. He couldn’t give her the wrong idea about where they were headed or lead her on. She had to be free to live the life she deserved.
He also needed time to rebuild his defences. His admission that why he’d left had been to do with him would only give rise to more questions. Questions Cressy would want answers for, answers he couldn’t give. He sighed. She’d also spoken the truth. Their car park kiss wouldn’t be the last time chemistry pulled them together. But it had to be the last time he lost control and acted upon his feelings.
Instead of following the curve of the driveway to the homestead he headed to the shed where the horse float was parked. He couldn’t avoid Cressy forever. Today was day five of not being warmed by her smile or hearing her laughter. His confrontation with Shaun only further deepened the longing to see her.
An hour later, the horse float behind the ute and a large picnic basket beside him, Denham went in search of Cressy. Meredith had said she’d packed afternoon tea but from the weight of the basket she’d also packed a week’s worth of dinners.
He slowed as he passed a black and yellow sign indicating there were cattle ahead. His consideration wasn’t appreciated by the driver who’d tailgated him for the past kilometre. An engine roared as a dark green hatchback overtook him on the straight.
Denham shook his head. The driver was asking for trouble. They’d have to slow down and give way should there be stock across the road. But as Denham spied the first of Cressy’s herd, he saw they were well off the road and grazing over in the trees. He flicked on his indicator and left the tar to follow a track into the public pathway.
Curious cattle raised their heads and then returned to eating. Black Angus were happiest when they stopped to graze unlike some other cattle breeds who could eat as they walked. Cressy appeared riding a red and white ag bike. Tippy sat on the dog board on the back, her tongue lolling.
Cressy smiled as she pulled up beside him. He lowered the window. Dressed in a purple work shirt, black rodeo cap and with colour in her cheeks she made his heart ache. Now more than ever, things had to remain platonic between them. He focused on the faint freckles across her nose and not on the sensual curve of her bottom lip.
