by Mandy Magro
The rodeo grounds were a bustle of activity, a steady stream of people and horses weaving through goosenecks, food vans and trailers; excitement and expectation hung heavily in the electric atmosphere. Families were sprawled on picnic blankets eating and drinking, children were high on fairy floss, and couples sat on the bum-numbing benches in the grandstands while mates caught up with each other at the bar, hats and sunnies donned to ward off the sweltering sunshine. Aden knew some spectators came every year to the event, rain, hail or shine, while others were newcomers, easy to spot by their dazed smiles and the stark newness of their Akubras. Volunteers manned Ωsmoking barbecues or dashed around behind the bar, while the Country Women’s Association caught up on the town gossip behind the cake and coffee stand. Everyone from the small community of Yarringin pitched in and pulled their weight, providing a perfect day for a family outing. Aden hadn’t realised until now just how much he had missed the community spirit that went with country towns.
Back behind the arena, stock contractors unloaded prized livestock into the holding yards, the many hoofs exiting the cattle trucks thundering over the shouts and whistles. It was organised chaos. The cattle and horses stomped and snorted, pranced and whinnied, as they were gathered in the selected yards, some of them displaying their dominance over the others by biting, kicking or bucking. Aden took a deep, controlled breath, psyching himself, silently confirming he could do this. Not long now. Country tunes faded in and out over the PA: Garth Brooks, Waylon Jennings, Adam Brand and Johnny Cash. Cowgirls and cowboys, dressed in glitzy chaps and western clothing, sat along the railing, above the chutes awaiting Aden’s entry to the arena.
The water truck did its rounds in the centre ring, attempting to settle the dust that was suspended over everything. The arena’s massive speakers crackled to life as the announcer introduced the national anthem. Aden watched as the spectators stood proudly, holding their hats or hands to their chests, some singing and some miming the words. A minute of silence followed, in remembrance of all the rodeo riders who had lost their lives to the sport they loved. And then it was showtime.
Aden nodded to indicate he was ready. The crowd cheered as the rope was pulled and the colourful chute gate flung open. The snorting, belligerent bull exploded into the ring, determined to get Aden off its back. Aden felt his body shudder with every buck. The bull was hell on hoofs, spinning, lunging and belting out high-kicking bucks. With one arm held high in the air to balance himself, Aden kept the other firmly around the bull strap, thankful for his leather glove, using everything he had to stay pinned to the back of the bull. His adrenaline pumped and the roar of the crowd grew as the buzzer announced that he had made it to eight seconds. Aden grinned triumphantly, the taste of dust in his mouth, as he leapt efficiently to the ground and ducked away from the bull’s deadly horns with the help of the experienced rodeo clowns. The bull veered back towards him, a glint in its eye. Aden swiftly heaved himself over the fence and out of the bull’s direct path, his entire body buzzing. For the first time in years Aden felt truly alive.
The scattered clouds reflected vivid shades of red and orange as dawn broke over the distant horizon. Aden stretched languorously as he raised his head from his pillow, captivated by the beauty of the outback sunrise. Around him people were beginning to wander about in their PJs, towels over their shoulders as they made their way to and from the portable showers. Horses were whinnying and the bellows of cattle travelled pleasantly on the gentle morning breeze. These were sounds Aden had missed. He could quite easily have lain here all morning in the back of his Land Cruiser, his mood relaxed, but with an eight-hour drive ahead of him he had to hit the road. Today he would be arriving at his final destination. The thought made his stomach flip.
After six years away, he knew there would be some tough challenges ahead. So much had happened in his life since he left. He’d been married and was now on his way to divorce; he’d completed a veterinary degree and become used to living in a city. And he’d tried countless times – with everything from counselling to spiritual gurus – to genuinely be able to forgive James for being behind the wheel of the car that had killed his younger sister six years ago.
One of the biggest lessons he’d learnt in this time was that he couldn’t alter the past, so instead he was focused on looking towards his future with optimism. That was exactly what he was trying to do by going home to Hidden Valley, to find happiness in the place where his heart longed to be, and to be around all the people he loved dearly once more.
Aden stood and began to roll up his swag, eager to tuck in to some bacon and eggs before he was on his way. With the smell of sizzling bacon making his mouth water, he pulled on his boots and leapt down from the back of his Land Cruiser. Tugging on his wide-brimmed hat, he grabbed his breakfast supplies, billy can and tea leaves and headed over to where a large group stood around a campfire. It was time to gather the reins of his life and take control once again.
Chapter 3
‘LADIES and gentlemen, please make sure your seats are in the upright position, your tray tables are secured and your seatbelts are fastened. We are beginning our descent into Cairns airport and will be landing in approximately fifteen minutes. The temperature today is a lovely thirty-two degrees. Thank you for choosing to fly with us, and we hope you enjoyed your flight.’
Kirsty yawned and stretched her cramped legs under the seat in front of her, watching out the window as the lush green mountain tops of Cairns came into view, surrounded by beautiful aqua blue water. It was a relief to finally be home after travelling for close to thirty hours. She could see the dark patches in the ocean below where the Great Barrier Reef swarmed with sea life. She had forgotten just how breathtaking tropical North Queensland really was.
It had been miserable saying goodbye to Jo and Calvin at Heathrow. She and Jo held onto each other for dear life as the final boarding calls were made, while Calvin had been so very quiet. Jo had assured Kirsty that she would be home in six months’ time once her working visa had finished, and Kirsty knew that Jo always stuck to her promises. But Kirsty doubted she’d ever see Calvin again. They’d always known the day would come when they had to say goodbye, not getting more serious than either of them was ready for, but it didn’t make it any easier.
After disembarking and collecting her luggage, Kirsty was waved through Customs and headed towards the crowd of people waiting for the passengers. She spotted Robbie a mile away, even after three years of not seeing him. He was over six feet tall, towering above most of the waiting crowd, his battered tan hat pulled firmly down over his mop of shaggy blonde hair. She smiled broadly. In his dusty jeans and chequered shirt he looked uniquely Australian.
As she pushed excitedly through the swarm of weary travellers, Kirsty glanced at the person next to Robbie and felt her breath catch in her throat. A similarly dressed man stood beside her brother, his dark chocolate eyes staring at her with a familiar hint of waywardness. She fought for breath, feeling as though someone had punched her in the chest. Oh my God. It couldn’t be. Could it? Oh shit! She thought about turning around and running back to the plane, but the concern of looking like a complete lunatic stopped her in her tracks. Besides, the man had already spotted her and was smiling broadly in her direction, cheeks dimpling, his jet black hair hanging about his face in a way that gave him a rebellious edge, adding to his already rugged charm. Kirsty took a deep breath as she smiled back. ‘Deep breaths, calm thoughts,’ she whispered to herself.
‘Robbie!’ she squealed and ran towards her brother, falling into his warm embrace, breathing in the glorious scent of the country.
‘Sis, you’re finally home,’ Robbie said with a broad grin as he gently pushed her back to look into her eyes. ‘My God, you look so grown up! How are you?’
Kirsty nodded as a wobbly smile formed on her lips. ‘I’m fine. It was horrible saying goodbye to Jo and Calvin but it’s all good now I’m here with you.’ She touched him on the arm. ‘It’s so good to see you!’
‘You too,’ Robbie replied, as he kissed her on the forehead.
Kirsty finally made eye contact with the man next to her brother. That distinctive scar above his lip – it was unquestionably Aden Maloney. Kirsty could still picture the horse lashing out and kicking Aden’s face like it was yesterday, leaving him bloodied and bewildered while Kirsty’s father ran to the house to call an ambulance. A few painkillers and fifteen stiches later, Aden had casually shrugged it off, saying that it wasn’t the horse’s fault, it was his own, and that he would have to be more wary when shoeing a nervous stallion next time. He still had the scar. She couldn’t help but admire Aden’s love for horses, it was obvious in the way he treated them with such respect, even when they occasionally hurt him. So it was no surprise to her that he’d chosen to become a vet.
Aden had been the one and only guy she’d had a crush on all the way through school. Not that Aden had ever noticed; he only ever seemed to see Kirsty as Robbie’s annoying younger sister. The two boys were forever playing pranks on her, like putting GladWrap over the toilet seat or hiding frogs in her boots. They were absolute scallywags, always up to mischief. She had kept her infatuation with him hidden for fear of humiliation if he ever found out. She didn’t even tell Robbie or Jo about him. Then, after the accident, Aden had moved down south to do his veterinary degree, swearing he’d never set foot back in Hidden Valley again. But here he was, flesh and blood, looking tall, dark and sexy as hell. She swallowed hard, her belly doing backflips, forward rolls and triple twists.
‘Howdy, stranger,’ Kirsty said casually, her voice betraying her nerves. ‘I heard through the grapevine that you’d shacked up with some city sheila and got married. I thought you would have had three kids, a dog and a house with a white picket fence by now.’ She suddenly worried about how bad her hair looked after not brushing it for almost two days, and whether her breath was okay, even though she had brushed her teeth several times on the plane.
Aden grinned. ‘Nah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Couldn’t live in the city much longer.’
Kirsty looked at him quizzically, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes before she spoke. ‘So what are you doing back in the sticks? Are you on holidays?’
Aden looked sideways at Robbie, hesitating slightly, and Robbie jumped in.
Relieved, Aden looked down at his boots as though the timeworn Blundstones were an object of deep fascination.
‘Kirst, I meant to tell you on the phone last week. Aden’s moved back to Mareeba and into the spare room at our cottage, just till he gets on his feet. He’s decided to start a mobile vet service for Dimbulah and Mareeba. Lord knows we really need one in Hidden Valley, with only the one vet all the way over in Atherton.’ Robbie ended his spiel by giving Kristy an award-winning smile.
Aden looked up from the floor and made eye contact with Kirsty. She found it hard to keep the shock from her face. Aden Maloney, living under her own roof? Holy crap! She scratched at an imaginary itch on her head, her mind in a spin. ‘Oh, um, well, sure. I s’pose.’ Suddenly desperate to get away from Robbie and Aden, she looked around for an excuse, drumming her lips with her fingers. ‘Give me a sec, I’m just going to grab a trolley for my bags.’ She chortled uncomfortably then went in search of the baggage carousel, tripping over her feet but skilfully rebalancing herself before she fell flat on her face.
Aden watched her walk away, taking all of her in. It had been years since he’d seen Kirsty, and she’d certainly grown up, with curves in all the right places. She was still as beautiful as she’d always been, her powder blue eyes still so captivating. He mentally slapped himself. She was off limits and he was recently separated. ‘You reckon she’s all right with me staying with you, mate?’ he asked Robbie. ‘She seemed a little, well, dazed and confused.’
Robbie chuckled and threw his hands up in the air. ‘Women, they’re such complex creatures, hey! But don’t worry about it, mate. She’ll be fine. You’re like a brother to her, always have been. She’s probably just buggered from all the travelling, that’s all. Tomorrow’s a new day – let’s talk about it some more then if we need to.’
Aden nodded as he and Robbie headed off to help Kirsty load her luggage. Her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. Why did she seem so nervous around him?
Chapter 4
THE stereo in Robbie’s bush-beaten Land Cruiser was on full bore, John Williamson’s distinctive voice singing ‘I’m Fair Dinkum’, as they headed up the Kuranda Range and towards Hidden Valley. Kirsty shuffled her feet along the rubber floor mat, kicking empty Red Bull cans, salt-and-vinegar chip packets and old newspapers out of the way. Robbie claimed that the rubbish, combined with the deep-rooted scent of cow manure in the interior and the thick layer of mud on the outside of his Toyota, gave the old girl character. Not everyone agreed. Kirsty was forever grateful he wasn’t like that in the cottage they lived in behind their mum and dad’s homestead. Everything had been kept spick and span, just how she liked it to be. She hoped Robbie had kept up his good house-cleaning skills while she’d been away.
The crisp, clean scent of the rainforest invigorated Kirsty’s senses. In the distance a shawl of mist draped itself casually over the glorious mountain tops, and magnificent blue Ulysses butterflies danced about the dark green foliage at the side of the road. God, how Kirsty had missed these views. She sighed, contented, as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It was so good to be home.
The Cruiser was snug with the three of them packed in, Aden’s muscular thigh squashed up against Kirsty’s, his tattooed arm draped over the back of her seat. Every now and then he would sing along to the stereo and she couldn’t help but join in with him. It reminded her of days gone by when they would all hit the road on the weekends, in search of the next rodeo or B & S ball. She missed those days. It was so surreal having Aden beside her, the man she had pined for, cried over, felt sorrow for, and loved.
Robbie joined in with the singing too, mucking the words up and trying to cover up his mistakes with a few humming noises, causing them all to laugh. Once they reached the outskirts of Hidden Valley, the city of Cairns now far behind them, the roads began to fill with dusty four-wheel drives and utes, some of them with big stickers on the back windows or tailgates asserting a strong love of everything country. Some were of large bull’s horns while others had sayings like Give blood, ride bulls or Save a horse, ride a cowboy.
Out her window Kirsty spotted the familiar colourful road sign advertising the Hidden Valley Bush Races in September. The massive sign had been there for an eternity, the date painted over each year with the new one. She pointed excitedly as they approached it. ‘Are you going to be racing this year, Aden? It’s months off yet – you’ve got heaps of time to prepare.’
Aden tipped his hat and peered out at the sign as it flashed passed them, shrugging his shoulders casually. ‘Dunno. My old boy is getting a bit long in the tooth for it. He’s got fat, too, since I’ve been away. Mum feeds him too much. I’d be lucky to get him into a decent gallop.’
‘You can enter Cash, if you like. He’d give the other horses a run for their money,’ she replied.
‘Great idea,’ Robbie said. ‘Why the hell not? It’d be a hoot!’
‘Cheers, Kirsty, appreciate the offer. I’ll have a think about it closer to the time,’ Aden said.
Kirsty breathed in the magnificent smell of the country, a mixture of unpolluted air, fruit flowers, livestock and sun-kissed fields. London seemed like another world to her as she gazed out over the green sprawling hills covered with cattle and horses. Off in the distance a windmill turned lazily in the light breeze. Mango trees lined the sides of the road, their plump golden fruit hanging tantalisingly low. What she would give to eat one right now. Beads of sweat rolled down the curve of her back and trickled between her breasts, soaking through her shirt as the ever-deepening embrace of humidity encompassed her, a sensation she was unaccustomed to after so long away.
The Hidden Valley
township hadn’t changed one bit, other than the fire station having had a new lick of paint. It was strangely comforting to see that all was as it had been before Kirsty left; no big high-rises spoilt the view. There was no need for them here – there was plenty of space at ground level to fit in all that was required to keep the town running smoothly. Beautiful native trees lined the streets with vibrant flowers and the locals casually strolled, as if not really in a rush to do anything. Not like London, where everything and everyone was going a hundred k’s an hour.
Two roundabouts and three train crossings later, they finally left the bitumen highway behind as Robbie indicated and turned right down Brooks Road, a trail of red dust and gravel flying out behind the Land Cruiser. The familiar ramshackle building on the corner was still hanging in there, the walls clinging despairingly to the decaying timber support beams. The roof had caved in aeons ago and there was a jungle of vines and creepers crawling over nearly every inch of it. Kirsty shivered at the thought of how many deadly snakes would be slithering among it all. She had never stepped foot near it, even though Robbie had often dared her to when they were growing up, and had no desire to do so in the future.
As the distance to home shortened, Kirsty’s eagerness to get there grew. She flung off her seatbelt and manoeuvred herself so she could hang her head out the window, the wind flying through her long blonde hair, sending it across her face. Robbie slowed as he approached a massive iron gate, a set of bull’s horns wired to the centre of it.
‘I’ll jump out and open it!’ Kirsty shouted as she leapt from the Land Cruiser only to land smack-bang in a pile of fresh horse dung. ‘Shit!’