Paige’s fingers stilled. Cold panic swept through her like a flash flood down a dry gully. The dam. Gidget had a water trough to drink from but she could have wandered into the near-empty dam to cool off.
The ute engine roared as Paige floored the accelerator. Gidget was the last connection she had with her mother. Everything else had gone. The flowers she’d planted beside her grave. The kelpie puppy. The Persian Blue kitten. The aged Welsh mountain pony had to be okay. Paige reached the dam, slammed on the brakes and left the ute. But with every stride up the dirt bank and every breath of hot air that sucked the life from her lungs, she grew more certain about what she’d find. She crested the wall and a sob tore through the hand she’d pressed against her mouth.
A small, once-white horse was wedged up to its back in thick, brown mud.
Paige spun on her heel and tore down the slope, not caring that loose dirt and stones almost sent her falling face-first. She slid into the ute seat and leaned over to grab the mobile. Please let there be reception. She could use the two-way but Connor and Tait were in the shed and wouldn’t hear her call. The bars indicating she had reception blurred as, hands shaking, she dialled Tait. Then using her shoulder to wedge the ringing phone next to her ear, she sent the ute rattling towards the homestead.
Tait pushed the ancient ute to its limit as he followed Paige’s directions. White-lipped she’d made no protest when he’d insisted he drove. Her driving was nerve-wracking at the best of times. He risked taking his gaze off the barely-there track to glance at her. She sat hunched in the passenger seat, ropes across her lap, as if by leaning forward she could make the vehicle travel faster.
The edge of a dam wall rushed up to meet them. Without preamble he killed the motor and followed Paige up the steep mound of dirt. He jammed his hat onto his head as the heat sucked all moisture from his pores. He came to a stop beside her. He didn’t know much about horses but he could tell the animal before him was exhausted. The only sign of life was a flicker of her small white ears as Paige spoke.
‘I’m so sorry, Gidget. We’ll have you out soon, I promise.’
Paige turned to him. But however calm and confident her words had sounded, her chest rose and fell with an agitated urgency.
‘Here’s the plan. I’ll put a rope around her neck and another around her rump.’ Even before she’d finished speaking Paige had pulled off her boots and socks. Her fingers flew down her shirt buttons. ‘If you could drive around to where the wall is flatter, we’ll try and pull her out.’
As she whipped off her shirt, Tait tried to concentrate on what she was saying and not on the navy singlet top she now wore that clung to her like a second skin.
‘We have to act fast as she could have been in there since yesterday afternoon.’
Tait nodded as he watched Paige wrap her shirt around the end of the rope she’d formed into a noose.
‘It will be okay,’ he said, quietly. ‘We’ll get her out.’
Uncertainty, fear, determination dashed across Paige’s face before she nodded and hoisted the rope onto her shoulder. ‘Let’s get started.’
Tait jogged to the ute and found a flat portion of the dam wall that would give him the best traction in order to pull the pony out. He strode down to the muddy edge. Behind him lay a parched bed of cracked mud, before him a quagmire, in the middle of which lay a small pool of water. To the right of the water, Paige now sat beside Gidget, her arms around the pony’s neck and her face buried in the muddy mane. Paige made no sound, her shoulders were still, but she had to be crying. Her fingers clutched the limp mane with such anguish he knew tears seeped into the silt.
‘Paige?’ She didn’t move. He spoke louder. ‘Paige?’
Her head lifted. All the light and hope had been extinguished from her eyes.
‘Gidget’s so old. So weak. She’s in so deep. I shouldn’t have left it so late to feed her.’ Paige’s voice wavered. She rested her cheek against the pony’s neck. ‘I’m not sure if I can get her out.’
‘Look at me. We can do this. We have a plan, remember.’
Instead of his words bringing her any reassurance they seemed only to increase her torment. Her eyes closed.
‘Paige Quinn, tell me what to do now, otherwise I’m bloody well coming in there and even I know that’s not a good idea.’
For the next two hours, Tait battled heat, flies and frustration. But on the third try of pulling Gidget out with the ute, the pony lurched forward, freeing her front legs. Mud oozed and sucked as though reluctant to release its victim but with Paige now able to pull on the rope she’d slid behind Gidget’s hind legs, another tug and the pony slipped free. She staggered onto the dry ground and, legs shaking, stood while Paige ran her hands over her, checking for injuries. The pony’s nostrils flared. She shuffled towards the ute. Paige beat her to the tray back and hefted out a covered bucket and removed the lid. The pony drank from the water, mud from her muzzle turning the clear water cloudy. Paige then lifted out a bright yellow tub that she placed in the ute’s shade. Gidget whickered as she dipped her nose into the food bucket.
Paige sank to the ground, leaned against the ute tyre and rested her elbows upon her knees to watch the pony eat. Tait sat beside her.
‘Thank you.’ Paige spoke without looking at him.
‘You’re welcome.’
Silence settled between them, only broken by the contented munching of the pony.
Tait stood and collected two water bottles from the ute. He again sat, used a clean portion of his shirt to twist off both lids and passed Paige a bottle.
She took a swig, spat out muddy water and then took a long drink. She lowered the bottle and threw him a sideways glance. ‘I hope you weren’t planning on taking a clean hat home?’
He removed his Akubra. Red mud splattered the fawn felt. He passed a hand over his face and mud crumbled beneath his fingertips. Paige laughed softly. ‘I’m not saying anything, other than if I have as much mud over me as I have in my mouth then I look even worse.’
He plucked a twig from the debris in her ponytail that lay plastered over her shoulder. She might be covered from her head to her bare toes in silt but she still looked beautiful. ‘Let’s just say you don’t need to go to a day spa to have a mud bath.’
She laughed again. A light, joyous sound loaded with relief. ‘After this I think mud baths have lost their appeal.’ Her gaze sobered. ‘Thanks again. I couldn’t have got Gidget out without your help.’
Paige shivered before drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them. Shock was kicking in. Without thought, he placed an arm around her slender shoulders. She stiffened but didn’t move away.
‘No worries.’
Paige shivered again. He tucked her closer to his side.
‘It’s all over,’ he said. ‘Gidget is safe, and by the way she’s hoeing into her lunch. There’s no damage done.’
No damage done.
If there was no damage done why was she nestled against Tait, fighting the urge to rest her head on his shoulder?
No damage done. Infinite damage done. She was supposed to be resisting his help, keeping her boundaries firmly in place. She wasn’t supposed to be leaning on him physically or emotionally. She had to be self-sufficient and strong. She wasn’t picking up the pieces again after letting another smooth-talker bypass her barriers.
She pulled from his hold and stood, knees rubbery. ‘We’d best get going. I’ll come back with the truck and take Gidget to the homestead. She can swap wide open spaces for a smaller, safer paddock.’
Tait slowly came to his feet. The wide brim of his hat shadowed his eyes but beneath the mud she could see the bunched line of his jaw.
‘Right.’ He turned towards the ropes drying in the sun.
Paige trudged over to her boots. With each step mud oozed between her toes and dragged at the hem of her heavy jeans. She collected her boots and with a last hug for Gidget returned to the ute.
Tait stood by the open driver’s door. He raised
a dark brow. ‘You’re not really going to get into the ute like that, are you?’
She stopped in front of him. ‘Yes. Why?’
He cleared his throat and inclined his head at her jeans.
‘It’s a farm ute, not your fancy car. I’ve travelled in it far dirtier.’
Tait’s smile appeared even whiter against the mud splashed on his face. ‘I don’t know how you could get any dirtier than you are now. What we need is a fire hose or a pool to throw you in.’
Paige placed her hands on her hips in mock outrage. ‘Thanks a lot. Just for that I’m driving home.’
Tait jangled the ute keys in his hand. ‘No you’re not.’ He examined her muddy feet. ‘Your soles would slip on the accelerator and I already know how fast you drive. Are you sure there isn’t somewhere I can hose you down?’
‘This is a drought, Tait. We don’t have full dams or springs in which to take a dip.’ She threw her boots on the ute tray back, expression thoughtful. ‘Actually, there is somewhere we could go on the way home. There’s an old bore we can’t use because of the poor quality water. If I can get it working we could wash off there.’
‘Is it far?’ Tait asked as he walked toward her.
‘No. Why?’
Before she could work out what he was doing, Tait grasped her around her waist and hoisted her onto the ute tray back.
‘Because you can ride here.’
Paige twisted the tap on the metal pipe but it refused to budge. She squinted up at the windmill, then towards the corrugated iron tank that perched high upon a lopsided wooden platform. The crackle of the white residue beneath her bootless feet told her the tank contained water. A series of small holes had leaked water that had then evaporated into salt on the ground. She examined the thick pipe that had once fed into a trough that no longer existed. If she could just get the tap to budge there’d be plenty of water and pressure to clean off in.
Tait came to stand beside her. ‘Like me to have a go?’
‘No thanks, I’ve got it.’
From the corner of her eye she saw him fold his arms.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, quite.’
Tait scuffed the toe of his boot through the white crystals underfoot. ‘Is this salt?’
‘It is.’ Paige gazed around her. ‘No surprise the water from this bore is too salty for either animal or human consumption.’ She spied what she’d been looking for and bent to pick up a large rock.
‘Watch out. When the gravity-fed water comes out it will be fast.’
She hit the tap and was convinced it moved. She lined up the rock for another blow and whammed. Metal groaned. Air gurgled along ancient pipes, then rust-coloured water burst free. Paige took a step back and checked to make sure Tait wasn’t standing in the water’s path.
‘You wanted a fire hose,’ she said above the roar of the water, ‘this is close enough.’
The dirty water gave way to a clear, steady flow. Paige took off her hat, tossed it onto dry ground and stepped into the chest-high stream. After the heat of the sun the coldness of water knocked the air from her lungs. She turned in a circle to make sure every skerrick of mud would wash away. Then, spine towards the spray, she leaned backward to allow the water to clean her hair. The relaxing pressure on her scalp caused her to smile. It’d seemed like a lifetime since she’d had a head massage at a hairdresser.
Convinced she was at last clean, she walked out of the water to see Tait leaning against the windmill, sunglasses on and hat pulled low over his brow.
‘Aren’t you going in?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Most of my mud has dried and brushes off.’ He pointed at her feet.
‘Besides I don’t think you’re quite done yet.’
Paige looked at what a minute ago had been pale pink toes – once again they were brown as the slurry from inside her jeans ran over her feet. The same effect was happening at her waist, as the mud beneath her singlet leached out over her jeans. On the outside she was clean, but not on the inside of her clothes.
She sighed. She had to remove as much mud as she could now to save water at the homestead. She flexed her shoulders as a small, slimy creature slipped between her shoulder blades. She also didn’t want to take any uninvited dam guests home. Her lace bras had long since perished, leaving her with her practical bras, one of which she now wore. Before self-consciousness could sabotage her intentions she reefed her singlet top over her wet head. Her black bra would be no different to a bikini top. She again walked into the water. When she was certain her torso was mud-free, she lowered her hand to the button of her jeans. She hesitated. Even though city boy Tait wouldn’t look twice at a mismatched, cotton-undie farm girl, she wasn’t in a hurry to parade around before him.
Above the gush of water she heard her name called. Tait had left his post by the windmill and beckoned at her. She stepped out of the water, wiped a hand over her face and touched her tongue to her salty bottom lip.
‘Here, put this on.’ Tait dragged off his khaki shirt and held it out to her. ‘Then you can take off your jeans, get clean and I just might let you back in the ute.’
‘Okay.’ She reached for his shirt that was still warm from his body and smelt of mud-tinged aftershave. ‘But let me remind you I’m the only one who knows the way home, so unless you want to walk, I’m inside the ute, dripping or not.’
Tait turned away from the sight of Paige pulling his shirt over her head. He didn’t need to add any more pictures to his mental gallery. The image of a smiling and relaxed Paige wearing little but wet low-slung jeans and black bra would be indelibly burned in his memory long after he’d left Banora Downs. When she’d licked her bottom lip it’d taken all of his willpower not to tug her close and kiss her.
He walked towards the ute, took off his hat and tunnelled a hand through his hair. What was happening to him? Never had he allowed a woman to short-circuit his self-control. Never had he come so close to doing something reckless and impulsive. And he wasn’t starting now. He had to stick to the game plan. He’d come to Banora Downs for two reasons, one business and the other personal. Nowhere on his list was anything written about mixing business with pleasure and definitely nothing about kissing Paige’s salty lips.
Chapter Seven
‘Sweet dreams, Gidgy,’ Paige said as she rested her hip against the wooden fence of the pony paddock closest to the homestead. Eyes closed, the now-clean pony dozed in the dimming dusk light as though hours ago she hadn’t been near death. One day Paige would have to face losing Gidget, but it wouldn’t be today.
She’d been twelve when her mother had given her the pony. She could still recall the tightness of her mother’s arms around her as she’d whispered ’Happy birthday’ in her ear, and the brightness of the red scarf hiding her bald head after her first round of chemotherapy. For four years they’d battled to keep the cancer at bay. Then three days before her sixteenth birthday, on a black, bleak, winter’s night, the cancer had won. Paige had been unable to cry-she’d no tears left - but her soul had wept just like her father had behind his closed office door.
She swallowed to ease the ache that, even now, could still burn in her throat. She knew she should head inside; her father would have dinner ready soon. But she couldn’t move. Something more than exhaustion anchored her boots to the ground.
She’d almost failed today. Failed Gidget, failed her mother and failed in her duty to look after Banora Downs. There was no excuse for altering her routine and feeding Gidget at a different time. It couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t allow Tait to disturb the status quo any further. She turned towards the homestead on leaden feet. Even if she’d already broken her vow to not accept his help, tomorrow was a new day.
The screen door slammed behind her as she entered the darkened hallway.
‘Paige?’
Tait’s broad shoulders blocked what little light streamed in from the kitchen before a click sounded as he flicked on the hallway light.
‘How’s Gidget?’ he asked as he approached.
Paige braced herself against the concern gentling his voice and disregarded the tea-towel draped over his shoulder. It didn’t matter how human he sounded or how attractive he looked, she couldn’t afford to see him as anything but a paying guest.
‘Fine. Thank you.’ She winced as Tait’s gaze narrowed. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so formal. She spoke again. ‘She’s sleeping off her adventures in her old paddock.’
Paige crossed to the carved cedar staircase. On the second step she stopped and grasped the smooth balustrade. ‘Please tell Dad I’ll be down to say goodnight after my shower.’
Tait moved to the side of the stairs. With the height added by the two steps, she was at his exact eye-level. The purpose tightening his mouth held her motionless, more so than if he’d again secured her wrist. ‘What about dinner?’
‘I’m worn out. Dad will know to keep it for later.’
‘You only grabbed a sandwich when we had a late lunch. You have to eat.’
She held his hard stare with her own. ‘I’ll eat when I’m hungry and I’m not right now.’
‘Fine. But if you don’t come and eat dinner with us, the ute keys are staying in my jeans pocket.’
Paige glanced down at the clean, dark denim moulded to his lean hips. ‘That’s blackmail.’
‘Exactly. Eat. Or you’ll be the one walking tomorrow.’ He turned to retrace his steps to the kitchen.
Her other hand latched onto the solid, steadying balustrade. ‘Tait … wait … I’m too tired for this. Please give me the keys.’
‘Not a chance.’
She thought of the softness of her mattress. She wasn’t going to play his little game. It was nothing to him how many meals she consumed. She knew her limits. It was sleep not food she needed. She’d eat when she was hungry.
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