The Round Yard

by Alissa Callen

  Neve hoped the noise of the dual-cab ute parking beside her drowned out her sigh. Kait had only put into words what Neve’s subconscious had been thinking. It had been a week since she’d seen Tanner in the pool, all tanned, sculptured muscle and toned, water-beaded hollows. The memory of him dragging his hands through his wet hair, making his biceps curl, still stole her breath.

  But more than that, it had been a week since she’d almost given in to her fascination and kissed him. Her cheeks warmed. She’d lost count of how many times she’d relived what had happened. With each recollection the situation didn’t become any less mortifying. Moments didn’t get any more awkward than a near kiss. At least today when she saw him, the girls would provide a welcome distraction.

  She unclipped her seatbelt and turned to Kait with what she hoped appeared a normal smile. ‘We’ll see him soon. Remember he’ll be working, so we can’t spend as much time with him as we usually do.’

  Both girls nodded, but their eyes remained excitement-bright.

  When everything they’d need for a day away from the car was packed into a backpack and hung on the stroller handle, Neve joined the procession of field-day visitors making the scenic trek past the airstrip. At least she’d have no trouble spotting her car when she returned. It was almost the only one without either a bull bar or a light bar.

  She stopped to read the yellow sign to the girls that warned people to check for approaching planes as they flew low over the road. But apart from a helicopter giving joy rides, the blue sky was as free from aircraft as it was of clouds.

  Beyond the entryway, flags fluttered and colour blurred as crowds milled amongst the stalls and exhibits. Neve already knew she’d have to return next year. There were too many demonstrations and talks to fit into one day.

  She’d aim to see Tanner’s event, the working sheep dogs, the after-lunch fashion parade and an afternoon gardening session if Graham arrived in time to pick up the girls. There also was a scarecrow-making competition that would be fun to see. She had making a scarecrow for the vegetable garden on her to-do list.

  A school-aged girl with her face painted as a black-and-white Dalmatian ran past. Neve consulted her map to find the quickest way to the face-painting stall located in the centre of the site.

  As she pushed Kait in the stroller, she scanned the people around her. But while a multitude of men wore shirts in every possible shade of blue, none were Tanner. She checked her map again and made a slight detour to dawdle through the farm-animal nursery.

  ‘I can’t wait for Dell to have her baby,’ Maya said, holding her hand out for a young donkey to sniff.

  ‘I can’t either,’ Neve said, before pushing the empty stroller after an excited Kait who raced towards a tiny cream alpaca in the next pen.

  Once they’d had their cute-and-cuddly animal fix, they walked out of the shed into the bright sunshine. There was still a block to go to reach the face painting. They’d only made it halfway when Maya suddenly stopped and let go of the pram. Smile beaming, she dashed to her left.

  Neve went to call her back when she saw two blue-shirted arms catch the five-year-old and swing her into the air.

  ‘Tanner.’ Kait kicked her small cowgirl boots against the stroller and tried to undo the straps. Neve helped her out and soon the three-year-old was also in Tanner’s arms. He walked over with each little redhead balanced on his hip.

  Neve tried not to be impressed. Maya might be fine-boned, but she still made Neve’s muscles work hard when she lifted her into Bassie’s saddle.

  Tanner’s dimple flickered. ‘Neve.’

  If he felt the same awkwardness at seeing each other again, it didn’t show in his smile. ‘Hi, how did Arrow travel?’

  ‘Any trip over half an hour makes him grumpy. He’s happy now he’s here and being treated like a celebrity.’

  Neve nodded as she glanced away. She’d forgotten she wasn’t supposed to look into Tanner’s eyes for too long. Just being near him made her skin heat and her heart drum.

  He half turned. ‘I’m heading to the horse arena. Did you want to see him before our demonstration?’

  Neve didn’t need to answer. Maya and Kait had nodded before Tanner had finished speaking. As she’d hoped, the girls gave them something else to focus on besides what had happened the last time they were together.

  Still carrying the girls, Tanner walked beside her as she pushed the empty pram. Maya kept up a constant stream of chatter and questions. They arrived at the fenced-in horse arena to the sound of clapping as a white pony was being lunged by a small boy. His grandfather talked on the microphone as the pony kicked a large green ball with his front feet.

  To the side of the arena, Arrow stood in a portable yard filled with straw. A cluster of cowgirls made a fuss over him. Sunlight glanced off the bling on their belts and the rhinestones on their back jeans pockets. Their laughter carried as they threw bright-eyed looks in Tanner’s direction.

  He led the way behind the arena to where a collection of horse floats was parked. Camping chairs and trestle tables had been set up ready for morning smoko. A black fluffy dog wagged his tail from where he lay in the shade beneath a table.

  Tanner sat Maya and Kait in the chairs by his ute before reaching into a nearby esky. While they all enjoyed Meredith’s jam drops, they watched the pony in the arena place his front feet on a podium before doing a farewell lap. The applause continued as the little owner led his pony out of the gate.

  ‘Well done, buddy,’ Tanner said as they passed by.

  The boy sent him a toothy grin.

  Neve checked the time on her phone. ‘Okay, girls, it’s Tanner and Arrow’s turn now. Let’s go find a seat in the stands to watch.’

  As they left, she gave Tanner a smile. This would probably be the only time she saw him today. ‘Hope your demo goes well.’

  His answering grin stayed with her until she and the girls were seated on the bottom row in the middle of the tiered seats. The audience for the previous demonstration had been a mixture of ages. Now there seemed to be a predominance of pretty young cowgirls. Meredith and Denham were right. Unattached Tanner was a marked man, even when he wasn’t in Woodlea.

  But as he entered the arena with a saddled Arrow and gave the crowd his easy smile, Neve couldn’t blame the cowgirls for their interest. Today Tanner wore a monogrammed silver belt buckle with his usual blue shirt, jeans and boots. He’d left his hat in his ute, giving the audience an unrestricted view of his face.

  She thought he was looking at her, and then was sure as he approached. He adjusted the microphone headpiece beside his mouth before turning to ask over his shoulder, ‘Can you please clip this on?’

  She stood and reached through the fence to secure the black clip to the back of his shirt. It was just a small gesture him asking for help, but as assessing and hostile stares turned her way she realised it had established her as more than a spectator.

  ‘Thanks.’ He gave her and the girls a wink before returning to the centre of the arena.

  Tanner introduced himself, the microphone carrying his deep voice and magnifying his appeal. As he made a joke and the audience laughed, Neve could almost hear hearts breaking.

  Every so often, as he talked, and demonstrated how to build trust between a rider and a horse, he’d glance at her and the girls. Each time Maya and Kait giggled and once Maya held up her hand in a thumbs-up sign. Neve relaxed on the wooden seat. This was a rare time when she could look at and listen to him simply as an observer.

  All too soon the demonstration ended. Even before the applause had faded, cowgirls left their seats to crowd the arena fence.

  As Neve helped Kait into the stroller, she looked across at Maya. ‘What shall we do now? Face painting?’

  The five-year-old didn’t answer. Instead, she frowned across at the jostling cowgirls. ‘They’ll give Tanner a headache.’

  ‘Don’t worry, he’ll be okay.’ Neve reached for her phone in her handbag. It didn’t seem right just walking o
ff and leaving. She typed a quick text.

  Great demo. Heading to face painting.

  She’d only pushed the pram two steps when her phone whooshed.

  Meet for lunch?

  She looked across to the arena. Tanner remained surrounded by his fan club and yet he’d texted her. She capped a quick rush of pleasure.

  Sounds good.

  She again pushed the stroller, resisting the urge to look over to see if he read her message.

  When they drew near to the face-painting area, loud whip cracking cut through the field-day chatter. As they walked closer they discovered that the whip cracker standing in the centre of a grassed area was a child no older than Maya. Dressed in a wide-brimmed hat, boots and jeans and red shirt, the little boy handled the kid-sized leather stockwhip with ease.

  When he’d finished, and was replaced by a girl holding two stock whips, Neve took the girls away from the noise. She caught sight of a familiar face as Taylor strode by, her light dancer steps hurried and brow furrowed. The Woodlea hairdresser had mentioned that she would be doing the makeup and hair for the festival’s fashion parades.

  When she saw Neve, she stopped, her expression clearing. ‘I was hoping you’d make it.’ She bent to grin at the girls. ‘Having fun?’

  ‘I saw Tanner,’ Maya said with a big smile.

  Kait nodded. ‘Me too.’

  ‘You know …’ Taylor straightened, lips pursed. ‘Tanner’s just who I need. I’d forgotten he’d be here. I wonder what time his demonstration’s on?’

  ‘He’s just finished,’ Neve said.

  ‘Perfect.’ The hairdresser took out her phone from her jeans pocket. She dialled, then held her mobile to her ear.

  From the length of time until Tanner answered, Neve guessed he was still surrounded by cowgirls.

  ‘Hi, Tanner, are you busy? I need a favour.’ Taylor looked at the watch she wore while he answered. ‘Great. Can you come to the pavilion ASAP? Thanks to food poisoning, we’re one model down for the next fashion parade.’

  Whatever Tanner said caused Taylor to laugh. ‘As much as it would fill the seats, no, you don’t have to take your shirt off … you will … fabulous … see you soon.’ She ended the call. ‘Phew. That saves me from approaching some poor random farmer. Have you seen the parade yet? I can save you front-row seats.’

  ‘Thanks, but we’ll keep moving.’

  Neve had already tempted fate by indulging her need to see Tanner. She’d spent far too much time staring at his mouth during his talk. The girls had also sat still for long enough.

  ‘If you change your mind you know where I’ll be.’ With a cheery wave to the girls, Taylor headed back the way she’d walked.

  Neve hesitated and then texted Tanner. His good heart again had him helping someone out. She could be wrong, but modelling wouldn’t exactly be a cowboy’s forte.

  Good luck.

  His reply was almost instant. Thanks. Will need it. Lunch after?

  If you survive.

  Tanner’s crying-with-laughter emoji made her smile and her happiness hum.

  She joined the face-painting queue with the girls and people-watched until it was their turn. After their faces were decorated as a white unicorn and a rainbow butterfly, they went in search of the scarecrow-making competition.

  Neve took some pictures of the various shapes, sizes and designs for inspiration. When still no text from Tanner had come through, she found a quiet corner in the food area for a picnic lunch and some down time.

  While Kait slept in her stroller, Maya snuggled against Neve’s side playing with her toy horse. When Neve’s phone whooshed she didn’t immediately check her messages. Instead, she let the sudden flurry in her nerves subside before she reached into her handbag. Her teenage days were long behind her. No good would come of her heart flying into her throat when all Tanner had done was send a text.

  But when she read the message it wasn’t from Tanner. Dread caused her stomach to pitch. Their missed lunch was now the least of her worries. Graham had arrived early to spend time with the girls.

  A potential hour alone had now turned into a whole afternoon with only herself for company.

  There was no risk of him giving up his day job to become a model.

  Tanner shrugged on his regular shirt and collected his mobile from the plastic tub Taylor had given him for his clothes. After seeing how the parade wouldn’t work without a fourth male model, he’d agreed to stay for the final parade. Thanks to the lunchtime show starting late, there hadn’t been time to return to his phone to message Neve before he’d needed to get dressed for the next parade. He fired off a belated text.

  Sorry. Just done.

  He buttoned his shirt, relieved to be wearing his familiar work clothes, and waited for an answer. While the outfits he’d modelled were mostly classic country wear, the suit and tie he’d worn for the last catwalk run had made him feel claustrophobic. No wonder Denham had something urgent to do in the shed whenever he was needed for his next wedding-suit fitting.

  Tanner checked his phone, even though he knew there’d be no message, and headed for the pavilion exit. Taylor blew him a kiss of thanks before he walked into the afternoon sun. Thankfully, all he’d needed to do was to give her a look when she’d mentioned hair and makeup and she’d left him alone. Arrow wouldn’t appreciate him smelling like a hair salon.

  Giggling sounded to his left and when he heard his name, he turned a sharp right. He didn’t mind the harmless lash fluttering and head tossing of the cowgirls. After his demonstration there’d been some serious and insightful questions amongst all the flirting. The country girls loved their horses as much as their bling.

  But he’d reached his threshold for the day. Suddenly, he was envious of the ring that would soon be on Denham’s left hand. He really did need to change his ute to a less conspicuous colour, or after the wedding head off for an extended droving trip. For now, he’d settle for some serious caffeine.

  As he made a beeline for the nearest coffee truck his mobile pinged.

  Hope you survived. Girls with Graham. They said to say bye.

  He took a step forward in the queue and stared at the message. Neve’s noncommittal words were exactly what he’d needed after the day’s constant attention. She hadn’t made any reference to their missed lunch or any suggestion that they catch up anyway. But instead of feeling relieved, he felt … disappointed. Before he could fully analyse his feelings, he typed a reply.

  In coffee queue. Like anything?

  Telling himself he was a grown man and it didn’t matter whether Neve replied, he returned his phone to his shirt pocket. At the first vibration he reached for it again.

  You read my mind. Latte pls.

  Meet at ute?

  On way.

  As he neared the horse arena and saw Neve sitting in a camp chair by his ute, he slowed his pace. Even though he wasn’t in Woodlea, he had to be careful about how he interacted with her in public. He’d stopped being surprised at how small the world was when he’d walked down the main street of an isolated North Dakota town and met the woman he’d once been prepared to sacrifice everything for.

  ‘One latte.’ He handed Neve her coffee.

  ‘Thanks. I feel like I’ve hiked a mountain and I’ve only covered half the site.’

  He sat in the seat beside her. ‘I hear you. I’ll never think of a catwalk as being a short walk again.’

  ‘Was being in the fashion parade that bad?’

  ‘Not bad, just not my thing.’ A text came through on his phone. As he looked at the accompanying picture, he groaned. ‘And something I won’t be living down for a while.’ He showed Neve the picture Denham had sent. In the photo Tanner was wearing the parade suit and Denham had then added some large red emoji hearts.

  Neve laughed softly. ‘I thought he was up north looking at cattle and the phone reception was going to be patchy?’

  ‘Knowing Denham, he would have been on the back of his ute with his arm in the air to find
some.’

  ‘I hate to say this, but if Denham has such a photo Edna will too.’

  ‘Tell me about it. Just as well I did a grocery shop yesterday. Town will be off limits again.’

  Neve studied him over the top of her takeaway cup. ‘But if you’re at Bethany’s, won’t Edna see you there?’

  ‘Touch wood, no. Edna never comes to the stables.’

  He didn’t add that Bethany made sure Edna wasn’t home, especially on the days when Mac joined them. Edna’s only concern seemed to be the date Tanner would finish, which was at least a week away. So far he’d fielded two phone calls about the topic. Now he’d seen Bethany with Mac, he could understand why she’d gone to such lengths to distract her mother. They were good together.

  ‘Has Edna let on what she needed you for?’

  ‘Not yet. Odd’s on I’ll find out when Bethany no longer needs my help with Skittles.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry too my father hasn’t been in contact. I’m guessing he hasn’t found anything.’

  He hoped Neve didn’t hear the disappointment he did his best to strip from his tone.

  ‘It’s fine. Thanks again for asking him.’

  ‘Any luck with Meredith’s scrapbooks and albums?’

  ‘No, but I still have two more to go. I did finally find my grandmother’s marriage certificates though.’ Satisfaction infused Neve’s words. ‘I’d assumed Netta was short for Annette. But on her birth certificate I discovered her proper name was Pauline Loretta. Netta was her shortened middle name.’

  He glanced at the silver STC on his belt buckle. ‘If ever anyone tried to track me down, not that there’ll be any marriage certificate to help, they’ll have trouble too. My real name’s Simon Tanner. Simon after my father.’

  ‘I thought that’s what the S stood for.’ She pulled a face. ‘There’s zero chance of me ever going by my middle name; it’s Bertha. I don’t know what my parents were thinking.’

  Tanner fought a grin. ‘Did you find a name for the man in the picture?’

  ‘I did. His name is … drum roll, Edward Lance Jones and he was born in the United Kingdom.’ Neve’s smile dimmed. ‘But my poor grandmother … it turns out he died five months into their marriage. I’m not sure how; there’s nothing I can find on what he did during the war or why he was here. He also isn’t listed as being buried in the local war cemetery.’