‘I keep telling you, go out on some dates, have some fun. You might actually enjoy yourself. Once you’re off the market, Edna will leave you alone.’
‘That’s easier said than done. My social skills are as rusty as the iron on the hay shed. Besides, I’m away so much it wouldn’t be fair on anyone.’
Denham looked out the window as Edna’s white four-wheel drive left town. When he glanced back at Tanner, the amusement had left his eyes. ‘I know we’ve talked about this before. I also know the western district is doing it tough and needs drovers, but there’s more than enough work for you here … if you wanted to stay.’
Tanner stared into his beer. Not only was Denham his cousin and best mate, but he was also his business partner. Denham ran the rodeo-bull-breeding programme side of their company, while Tanner dealt with the horse-training component when he was home.
Denham spoke again. ‘Meredith’s worried about you … and so am I.’
‘I’m fine. I just need to … get away … sometimes.’
Denham didn’t immediately answer, just studied him, empathy in his eyes. ‘I’m here anytime you want to talk.’
‘Thanks.’
He didn’t say anything more. He had no words for what surged and seethed inside, even for Denham. The only thing that provided a respite from his restlessness and uncertainty was droving.
Out on the long paddock, there was just him, his horse, dog and a mob of cattle. There was no more unpredictability, complexity or heartache. Out in the space and bush solitude, a family didn’t force a young mother to give up her son. Out in the red dust, an adoptive father didn’t reject his son. And out where the stars blazed in the midnight sky, a woman didn’t make promises she had no intention of ever keeping.
CHAPTER
3
‘I heard you had a very social morning yesterday,’ Ella’s cheerful voice sounded down the phone line.
Neve smiled into her mobile. ‘Let’s just say I’ve discovered a trip to Woodlea’s never dull.’ She told the vet of the date Edna had organised with the pharmacist.
Ella chuckled. ‘I wonder if Michael knows of Edna’s grand plans to get the two of you together?’
‘I went to see him. He had no idea. Stranger things have happened, but Edna’s intel was out of date. He has a girlfriend.’
‘You’re kidding. It’s not every day Edna’s wrong. At least there’s one person she won’t set you up with and that’s Tanner.’
Neve banished an unexpected tug of yearning. Surely Edna hadn’t been right? She didn’t need any more adult company, especially of the cowboy kind.
‘True. I thought Cressy was joking when she said wait until I saw how Edna acted around Tanner. I’m sure she fluttered her eyelashes.’
‘I’ve no doubt she did. We might have to run a rescue mission at the small-hall festival … that’s if Tanner goes.’
Neve gave in to her curiosity. ‘You don’t think he’ll be there? Denham and Hewitt have already said they’re going.’
‘I know he won’t be. You’ve more chance of seeing the white kangaroo out on Stoney Hill Road than you have of seeing Tanner at a social event. You’re just lucky he’s home at the moment to help with Dell and Bassie.’
‘I am.’ Neve looked out the kitchen window at the drive into Rosewood. It was almost nine and Tanner’s ute would soon kick up dust on the gravel road. ‘He’ll be here in a minute. I’d better go.’
‘Me too. Sorry I missed your text about Bassie’s rug. It was a busy day. The sooner the brown snakes realise summer is over and it’s time to hibernate, the better. I had two dogs come into the surgery with snake bites.’
Neve shuddered. ‘I hope they were okay.’
‘Yes, both had their anti-venom in time. Say hi to Tanner and see you on Saturday.’
Neve barely heard Ella’s words. A fine red cloud drifted into the sky. ‘Will do.’
She ended the call and stared through the window at the approaching blue ute. Uncertainty fluttered in her midriff. She wished for the tenth time since breakfast that she was looking after the girls today. There was safety in numbers. She could only hope that Tanner hadn’t misinterpreted her remarks to Edna. Her comment that she had him around if she needed company wasn’t designed to flag her interest or threaten his bachelor status. Edna already had him in her sights.
She headed to the front door. The comment had been simply an instinctive response to the hunted look that had darkened his eyes before Edna had thrown her arms around him. Neve was hardwired to help people, and in that moment Tanner had needed an ally.
She’d also wanted to signal to Edna that she didn’t appreciate being manipulated or part of any matchmaking games. She tugged on her boots and grabbed a pink cap with Woodlea Veterinary Hospital on the front from the hat stand.
Tanner had parked beneath the cedar tree and now strode towards the orchard paddock. Today he wore his usual jeans, felt hat and blue work shirt. His loose, lithe strides and the relaxed line of his broad shoulders didn’t fool her. Cressy’s heads-up yesterday confirmed that his confidence and self-possession hid a vulnerability that if she wasn’t careful would draw her to him.
Black-and-white flashed as a dog raced over from the ute to Tanner’s side. She stifled a groan as the drover grinned and bent to pat the young border collie. She didn’t need proof that Tanner possessed a gentle and tender side. He already was too good-looking for any single girl’s peace of mind. Let alone one whose last date was so long ago she had trouble remembering the guy’s name and where they went.
‘Morning,’ she said as she drew near. She’d see if he needed anything before hightailing it inside.
‘Morning.’
His nod was polite and impersonal before he walked through the pony paddock gate to where Dell waited for him. As he scratched the donkey’s neck, Neve didn’t need to be a donkey expert to know the grey-and-white jenny was smitten. Bassie stood a body length away, his tail swishing.
Tanner led Dell over to the fence and tied her to the baling twine. ‘I hope it’s okay that I brought Patch. I knew the girls weren’t here and wanted to see how Dell and Bassie are around him.’
Neve glanced at the long-haired border collie who had a black patch over his right eye. The dog was busy sniffing around the base of the iron bird bath Hewitt had welded from a rusty plough disc as a ‘welcome to Woodlea’ gift.
‘Good idea. He looks just like Hewitt’s dog, Max.’
‘He’s Max and Molly’s son.’
Neve fought a hot wave of embarrassment and kept her answer to a nod. Yet again she’d stated the obvious. She passed Tanner the curry comb from the tub she’d earlier brought outside. When he moved in close to take the comb she caught the scent of sun-dried cotton and leather. His eyes briefly met hers.
Needing something to do, she picked up a soft body brush. What was wrong with her? She had no trouble being herself and feeling comfortable around Denham and Hewitt. ‘I can brush Dell if you want to tackle catching Bassie?’
‘Thanks.’
Using the same techniques she’d witnessed yesterday, Tanner approached and then took a step away whenever Bassie looked like he’d bolt. It wasn’t long before Tanner had clipped on Bassie’s lead rope and the pony was tied to the fence. As much as Bassie maintained his I’m-not-impressed stare, he closed his eyes as Tanner brushed a sweet spot on his shoulder.
As they groomed the pony and donkey, neither Neve nor Tanner spoke. The only sound was the screech of a cockatoo before its talons clicked as it walked across the tin roof of the garden shed. Neve snuck a glance at Tanner’s face. His closed expression gave nothing away. She had no idea if he was as tense as she was. If she could she’d make witty small talk. But the methodical way Tanner moved and smoothed his hands over Bassie gave her hope that he wasn’t uncomfortable, just focused on whatever he was learning about the pony.
Tanner broke the silence. ‘Bassie’s quiet, with no malice. He just needs a little attitude adjustment.’
/> As if knowing Tanner was talking about him, Bassie turned to peer at Neve through the long blond forelock that fell over his left eye. If she didn’t know better she’d have thought him angelic.
She arched a brow. ‘A little attitude adjustment?’
Tanner’s lips twitched. ‘Yes. I’ll work him in the round yard and see what training he’s had, but I’m confident he’ll make a good leadline pony for the girls.’
Tanner led Bassie out of the orchard paddock. Not quite sure what to do but knowing she didn’t want to miss seeing if the pony would try any tricks, Neve followed. Patch ran by her side and then alongside Bassie. Both Dell and Bassie appeared oblivious to the young dog’s presence.
Tanner had assembled the round-yard panels in a perfect circle near an old gum. The spreading olive-green canopy provided shade as well as protection from the wind. Near the gate, three milk crates were secured together with zip ties, two on the bottom and one on the top. Neve guessed the step configuration would be to later help the girls climb into Bassie’s saddle.
When Tanner and Bassie entered the round yard, Neve carried the mounting block deeper into the shade before sitting on the top step. Patch rested his head on her knee and she tickled behind his ears.
Tanner stopped in the middle of the round yard to gather the long lunging rein in his left hand. He moved in close to Bassie’s left shoulder and lifted his right arm. The pony didn’t move.
Tanner’s deep chuckle sounded. ‘You’re not going to yield, are you, Mr Bassie? Stubborn has to be your middle name.’
Tanner moved closer and lifted his arm again, and this time Bassie moved his feet and swung around to face him. The drover rubbed the pony’s forehead. ‘See, that wasn’t so hard. Now out you go. I know you know what to do.’
Tanner allowed the lunging rein to lengthen as Bassie moved to the edge of the yard. The pony then walked in a circle around Tanner. After he had completed several laps, Tanner spoke softly and Bassie broke into a trot. After a few more smooth laps, Tanner slowed Bassie to a stop, changed the lunging rein into his right hand and had Bassie walk, then trot, in the opposite direction.
All the while Neve watched and patted Patch. Even if she wanted to return inside, she couldn’t. For the first time since she’d met him, Tanner appeared comfortable and relaxed. Whatever troubled him, he’d left at the round-yard gate. The wide brim of his hat hid his eyes, but his mouth had softened. The smile he flashed was the same easy grin she’d seen in town the first time she noticed him. Working with Bassie in the round yard made him happy. But as soon as Tanner led the pony out of the yard, the line of his jaw was again as taut as the wire fence that ran alongside them.
‘It looked like the attitude adjusting went well,’ she said, forcing herself to start a conversation. Tanner’s retreat behind the wall he encased himself in almost made her feel … lost.
‘Bassie’s as wise as he’s smart and stubborn. He knew the more he behaved the less work he’d do. Rule 101 of training is to always end on a positive note.’
‘Which means when I lunge him, we’ll be in the round yard until Christmas.’
For a moment Neve thought a real smile would break through Tanner’s reserve, and then he looked away. ‘He’ll get hungry before then. I’ll teach you how to lunge and he’ll be a perfect gentleman.’
He tied Bassie to the baling twine, and as he ran his hand over the pony’s caramel neck, Bassie leaned into his touch.
Neve swallowed. She didn’t need further evidence that Tanner had a good and kind heart. She also didn’t need to catch another glimpse of him content and at ease while he worked with Dell.
She spoke quickly. ‘I’ll head inside now. Thanks again for everything.’
‘See you tomorrow.’ Even though Tanner glanced at her, she couldn’t read his expression beneath the low brim of his hat. ‘I should be out after lunch if that suits?’
Neve nodded as she bent to give Patch a last belly rub. ‘See you both then.’
Without a backward look, she walked through the garden to the veranda steps. But as she made pink sparkly playdough for the girls in the microwave, she snuck glances through the kitchen window to where Dell trotted around the circular yard.
It was only when Dell and Bassie were in their paddock and the dust had settled behind Tanner’s ute that she abandoned any pretence of concentrating on what she was doing. She left the last of the dishes in the sink and sat at the kitchen table to open her laptop.
Her inquisitiveness about Tanner would only lead to trouble. But perhaps if she found out more about him he’d stop being of such interest? She typed in the name embroidered above his pocket. A website bearing the same horse logo filled the screen along with a picture of him riding a metallic-gold palomino.
In the photograph, Tanner had longer hair and his wide smile was full of carefree charm. When she looked carefully, she saw that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She clicked on the testimonials of his horse-training expertise and was surprised to see a number of American clients.
Further internet searching revealed he didn’t have any social media presence, but he did have a public profile following a win in an American mustang-training reality show. She enlarged photos of him dressed as a cowboy in leather chaps and a vest as he jumped the palomino through a ring of fire. Not surprisingly, he also was voted the fan favourite. A title reinforced by the many photos of him taken with cowgirls whose eyes sparkled more than the rhinestones on their belts.
Neve clicked on a link so she didn’t have to look at the proof that she wasn’t the only one taken by his clear blue eyes and the indent of his dimple. The link led to an article from the local Woodlea paper. A single image showed a tall, elegant Meredith walking in Claremont’s garden, her arm linked with Tanner’s.
Neve leaned forward to better see Tanner’s expression. In this picture his eyes smiled. The article explained how Meredith had been forced by her family to give up her newborn son after the jackaroo she loved had been killed in a fall from a horse. It had taken years of searching for Tanner to then find his way back to her.
Neve shut the laptop lid and took a shaky breath. No wonder Tanner’s confidence masked an unexpected vulnerability. No wonder it was only animals he let get close. Tanner had had as much control over his life as the mustang he’d worked with. Both had needed to navigate a world they hadn’t been born into.
She texted Fliss to say she was coming over for a cuppa and to help in the garden. She couldn’t stay here on her own. Without her mother, the girls, or work to keep her busy, she had no distractions. She frowned through the window at the road Tanner had left on. She wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what he’d been through searching for his birth mother. It was already bad enough that he occupied her thoughts far more than he should.
Arrow’s golden ears flickered as they rode the track between Claremont’s custom-built rodeo yards and the stables. Tanner patted the gelding’s velvety neck. Grey blurred to their left as a wallaby bounded through the bleached grass towards the grove of wattles that lined the nearby gully. The mustang might be a long way from his Montana birthplace, but no longer did the unfamiliar sight of a kangaroo, wombat or even an echidna bother him.
Arrow, with his strong will and fearless heart, was a steady constant in his life. Together they dealt with whatever came their way, whether it was a steer breaking away from the mob or floodwaters they had to swim through to rescue a trapped mare. They understood each other and their bond was unbreakable.
‘Easy, boy,’ Tanner said as Arrow’s ears pinned back. ‘It’s just Reggie. It’s not personal, remember?’
Dust tinged the afternoon breeze as a massive Brahman-cross bull lumbered over to the fence. Slab-shouldered, with thick, curved horns, Reggie’s size was only matched by his don’t-mess-with-me glare. As intimidating and grumpy as the bull was, when around Cressy or Fliss he was nothing but gentle. He also had an obsessive weakness for carrots. Tanner felt in his shirt pocket for the carrot he’d c
ut earlier. He slowed Arrow to a stop before leaving the saddle.
Fliss and Cressy believed Reggie was an excellent judge of character and that a man had to feed him carrots before he could be considered a prospective life partner. Such a ‘test’ was a current source of ribbing from Denham and Hewitt. It was all right for them, they’d passed and ended up with the women they loved.
Tanner strode towards where Reggie eyeballed him before pawing the ground. He’d have to put up with their jokes that he wasn’t yet man enough for anyone until Reggie accepted carrots from him. As for him falling for someone special, even if they were beautiful and warm-hearted like Neve, it was out of the question. He only ever did casual in relationships and with women who felt the same way he did. He needed the freedom of knowing he could leave at any time.
‘Okay, Reg. You know the drill. I have carrots. You like carrots.’
The grey rodeo bull allowed Tanner to reach the fence and then with a snort spun around and presented him with his rump.
Tanner sighed. ‘Right. Today’s not the day.’ He leaned over the fence. Reggie mightn’t accept him, but the bull hadn’t ever tried to hurt him. He tossed several pieces of carrot so they landed on a clump of grass close to Reggie’s front foot. Just like on every other failed carrot-feeding day, Tanner wouldn’t make it back to Arrow before Reggie had crunched on the treats. ‘I’ll be back.’
Arrow whickered as he approached. ‘Yeah, buddy, I saved some for you.’ He fed the gelding the last piece of carrot and rubbed his forehead. ‘Now the troughs have been checked, we’d better help Meredith before we head to Neve’s.’
Once Arrow had been unsaddled and had ambled down to his favourite grazing spot beside the creek, Tanner left the stables. As it was autumn he didn’t need to keep watch for the male magpie intent on protecting his mate’s nest. His hat still bore the dents from where he’d been swooped last spring.
He walked past the jacaranda tree to the line of strappy agapanthus that marked the start of the garden. Huge shade trees sheltered the veranda-clad homestead that had been home to generations of Rigbys. Tanner stared at the eight chimneys silhouetted against the sky that once would have emitted curls of smoke. He’d spent so long not knowing who he was, he still couldn’t believe that the blood of pioneering ancestors ran through his veins.
The Round Yard Page 4