by Mandy Magro
‘Yeah, exactly!’ Aden chuckled as he peered out the door at her, his dimples accentuated by his playful grin and the scar above his lip giving him a charismatic bad-boy edge.
Kirsty looked up from her manure-covered heeled shoes and jokingly gave Aden the finger.
Just as she heaved open the heavy gate and latched it to the weathered timber post she spotted Hank running full pelt towards her, his tongue flapping around the side of his mouth like a flag. She squatted down to the ground to meet him and he ran into her outstretched arms, the force sending her flailing back to the earth as he licked her face profusely, smothering her cheeks in doggy saliva.
‘Hank, my buddy, it’s so good to see you!’ she said as she struggled back up to a sitting position while ruffling his oversized ears. Kirsty had no idea what breeds he had in his bloodline, but the ears pointed to a hound somewhere in his ancestry. She had found him abandoned on the side of the highway eight years ago, and he had rapidly become her best mate. It had been hard leaving him behind when she went overseas. He wasn’t really a working dog but he tried his best, normally being more of a hindrance than a help. Her dad’s kelpies were the qualified working dogs, trained tirelessly by him to muster the cattle, but Hank’s only job at Flame Tree Hill had been to keep Kirsty company, and he’d performed that flawlessly.
Robbie pulled inside the gate and Kirsty shut it securely behind him, deciding now to ride up in the back like she always did. With Hank and Kirsty safely on board, Robbie began the slow drive down the two-kilometre driveway. There was no speeding once you entered Flame Tree Hill; you had to watch out for the livestock.
Being in the back gave Kirsty a perfect view of the vast land she called home . . . and also gave her welcome breathing space from Aden. She was still finding it hard to believe he was really here. And couldn’t help wondering if it was a good or bad thing. Living with him and Robbie was certainly going to be interesting. She gazed out over the fields, focusing on the beauty of the countryside, the warm breeze carrying with it the distant bellowing of cattle and the chattering of galahs perched high in the many flame trees that lined the sides of the drive. The commanding trees were now bare of leaves but swathed in clusters of striking red flowers. Flame trees only flowered for five weeks of the year and Kirsty felt very blessed to be arriving home to witness it. They were absolutely gorgeous. Hank let out a short, sharp bark as a wallaby went bounding past in a scurry to reach the scrub, but he knew better than to chase it. The bougainvilleas that hugged the front fence line were in full flower, while the jacarandas that dotted the paddocks had glorious purple flowers adorning them. Fields of lush green grass sprawled out before Kirsty with hundreds of healthy-looking red Brangus cattle enjoying the endless buffet. This is what Kirsty had missed, being so close to nature, and she sighed contently as Robbie turned left towards the homestead, leaving the paddocks trailing off behind them in the heat-hazed distance.
When Kirsty was eight, her parents Ron and Lynette had decided to quit sugar cane farming for good and expand into the cattle business. The Mitchells had always run cattle on Flame Tree Hill but only for themselves. One day Ron had turned up at the homestead in a shiny new red truck, a proud smile on his face and thirty Brangus cattle huddled in the back. Kirsty loved cattle, and the thought of having hundreds of them living on the property was like a dream come true. To her parents’ surprise, Kirsty had taken to mustering like a duck to water. Her mum had found it impossible to keep her home when the men were going out. Kirsty’s spirit thrived in the outdoors.
Her dad had chosen the Brangus breed of cattle because of its ability to handle tough grazing conditions, not uncommon in Hidden Valley. January was the wet season, and the feed might be in endless supply for now, but in the winter months the fields could soon become barren land if they had a year where there was little winter rain. Brangus cattle were a no-fad, no-frills breed renowned for its fertility and easy-calving capabilities. The meat’s marbling and tender qualities combined with high-yielding carcases and minimum fat content put more money in the Mitchells’ pockets. Also, being naturally polled, it eliminated the need to dehorn the calves, making the cattle easier to handle and minimising hide damage. Her dad proudly referred to them as lead on legs. Kirsty had found them to be a very gentle breed, always fairly easy to handle, other than the rare temperamental bull.
The timber homestead finally came into view and it stole Kirsty’s breath. Lynette had mentioned that she’d made some improvements to the garden but Kirsty hadn’t realised the extent. A new rustic timber fence encircled the home, giving it an even grander appearance than it had previously had. A pretty pebbled pathway snaked its way through a flourishing assortment of flowering native trees, arriving at the bottom of recently varnished timber steps leading to the front screen door. The old timber door had been replaced with a beautiful hardwood with vibrant leadlight flowers in the centre of it. Kirsty wondered if her mum had made it herself, being so clever in the art of leadlighting. The sweeping verandahs were shaded from the sun by two massive golden wattles, which swayed in the gentle breeze. The aged leather lounge chairs and couch were in the same position as always on the verandah, giving a perfect view of the horse paddocks.
Kirsty could just make out Cash in the distance, named after her country music hero, Johnny Cash. The horse was a mass of rippling muscles with an elegant and graceful exterior, his palomino coat stunning; he didn’t have socks but did have an adorable snip on his muzzle. God, he was a handsome horse! He was sniffing a patch of wild lavender that was growing by the fence line. Kirsty grinned at his intelligence – horses were always interested in plant aromas, attracted to the essential oils within them. It was as though they knew the oils contained healing qualities.
Turning her gaze back to the flourishing garden, she continued to admire all her mum’s hard work. Sprays of water shot out from a rotating sprinkler, the droplets catching the sunlight as they descended onto the dark green lawn, giving the impression of crystals floating in the air. A pair of rainbow lorikeets frolicked in the stone birdbath she’d given her mum a few years back. The panoramic views from the homestead were proof of why the spirit of the land had claimed her heart. After three years away she now saw everything with new eyes. Flame Tree Hill was a truly beautiful place, and she was so blessed to be able to call it home. She would never take it for granted again and she was going to try her damned hardest not to pack her bags and run away from it once more.
Robbie pulled into the drive and Aden leapt out of the passenger side, his boots crunching on the gravel as he held his hand out to help Kirsty down off the back.
Kirsty responded to his outstretched hand with raised eyebrows, heaving herself over the tray with vigour and snapping the small heel off her manure-covered shoe. She bent down to inspect the damage, groaning as she rubbed her throbbing foot.
‘You should have let me help you, Kirsty. Still as stubborn as ever, I see.’ Aden grinned as he shook his head.
‘You betcha I’m still stubborn. Well, I like to call it “independent”. I’ve jumped down from the back a million times on my own without the aid of a man. Just because I’ve lived in the city for a few years doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to be a country girl.’ Kirsty picked her shoes up and tossed them in the nearby wheelie bin. ‘I don’t need these damn shoes any more. They’re bloody lethal out here. It’ll be a nice change to be living back in my trusty old boots again.’
Aden laughed as she dusted off her hands and hobbled back to the truck, admiring her feistiness. It was a trait he found very attractive. ‘Would you like me to grab your luggage, Miss Determination, or will you clobber me if I try to help you?’
Robbie chuckled. ‘You two don’t take long to get back into the swing of things, do you? I’ve missed hearing you stirring each other up.’
Kirsty grinned at Robbie and then turned her attention back to Aden. ‘It’d be great if you could take my bags into the cottage, thanks. I’m just going to head in to see Mum and
Dad.’
‘Just let Mum know we’ll be over in a sec, Kirst,’ Robbie said as he trudged off towards the cottage with one of her bags slung over his shoulder.
‘No wucken furries!’ Kirsty replied. Smiling with the fact that Aden and Robbie knew the Aussie lingo. She’d once said that to a coworker in London and they’d been absolutely mortified, not understanding it was a good thing.
‘Gosh, something smells good!’ Kirsty said as she tiptoed into the kitchen, the smell of roast lamb in the air.
‘Woo hoo, my darling girl’s home, finally! I’ve missed you so much,’ Lynette squealed, dropping the tongs she was holding onto the bench and running to Kirsty, a warm smile filling her round, freckled face. The soft scent of her rose perfume instantly made Kirsty feel safe and secure, like it always had since she was a child. Her mother hadn’t changed at all – she was as plump and vivacious as always. The two women stood hugging for what seemed like an eternity, holding each other close, laughing and crying at the same time.
Lynette finally pulled back from Kirsty, wiping happy tears from her eyes with a tea towel. ‘I would have met you out the front, love, but I didn’t even hear you pull up over the volume of the telly. I reckon your dad’s going a bit deaf in his old age. But don’t tell him I said that. He’s resolute on staying young and full of beans forever.’ She chuckled.
‘He’s always had the telly up too loud . . . the old bugger must have been deaf years ago.’ Kirsty giggled.
Lynette kissed Kirsty once again on the cheek, then, holding her at arm’s length, looked her up and down. ‘You’re looking a little thin, dear. What have you been eating, rabbit food and rice crackers?’
Kirsty waved her hand in the air. ‘Pffft, I’m not that skinny, Mum. I just haven’t been eating all your good home cooking.’
Lynette gently touched Kirsty’s face, her cheery mood turning serious. ‘I’ve been worried about you. I’m praying that the time away has helped heal your hurt. I was getting concerned that you were never going to come home.’
Kirsty wrapped her arms around herself, avoiding her mum’s eyes, the reason she ran away from Hidden Valley three years ago still taunting her. ‘Of course I was going to come home, Mum. My life is here. I could never live anywhere else.’
Lynette raised one eyebrow, assessing Kirsty, trying to read her, before tutting and reluctantly turning to continue with dinner, talking to Kirsty over her shoulder. ‘Your dad has missed you loads, too.’ She put a tray of vegies in the oven. ‘And speaking of your dad, does he know you’re home yet?’
‘No, not yet. I’ll go in and say g’day to him.’
‘I’ll make us a pannikin of tea, love; we have so much to catch up on. I’m looking forward to hearing all about your travels over dinner. Aden and Robbie are joining us too. It will be so lovely having all the family together again.’
‘Oh, a good old-fashioned pannikin of tea. That’s music to my ears,’ Kirsty said, smiling, memories of sitting on the verandah with her mum at sunset flooding back. These were the simple memories that would bring tears to her eyes in the UK when she suffered awful bouts of homesickness.
Kirsty snuck into the lounge room, where her dad was settled into his reclining lounge chair in front of the telly, the five o’clock news on, a pannikin of coffee in his weather-beaten hands. He obviously hadn’t heard Kirsty come in and she stole a few moments to stand in the shadows and take in her father’s face. His hair had gone greyer in the last three years although he still had plenty of it, and his eyes were surrounded by the telltale signs of years in the sun. His long legs rested on the coffee table, his socks bunched up around his ankles, one of them hanging halfway off the end of his toes. He had the physique of a hard-working country man, not an ounce of fat on his body.
‘Hey, Dad, I’m home!’ Kirsty threw her arms over the back of the sofa and wrapped them gently around her father’s neck, kissing him on the head. Ron jumped with fright, spilling his coffee all over his jeans.
‘Oh Christ, love! You scared the crap outta me. Nearly gave me a heart attack,’ he said as he clambered out of the couch and turned to give Kirsty a hug.
‘Oh, I missed you so much, Dad. It’s fantastic to be home,’ Her heart melted as she stood before him, noticing he had tears in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand, sniffing loudly and wiping ineffectually at the coffee on his jeans. ‘How was your flight?’
‘All right, I suppose. I couldn’t get comfortable at all and the airline food – oh, don’t even get me started. It’s like eating cardboard. It’s been almost two days since I’ve eaten anything decent. My belly’s rumbling just thinking about tucking in to Mum’s roast dinner.’
Ron rubbed his stomach and sniffed the air. ‘Bloody oath, smells great, doesn’t it? Mind you, your mother’s cooking always does. Anyway, I better head off and have a quick shower, not to mention change my jeans. I smell a bit like a feedlot.’
‘I second that notion, Dad,’ Kirsty replied, swiping the air in mock disgust.
Ron laughed and winked. ‘Don’t you worry, love. You’re going to look and smell like this tomorrow after I send you out working in the paddocks for the day with Robbie. No rest for the wicked round here.’
‘I’ve been hanging out to do some dirty work, Dad. I’ll be up at sparrow fart, raring to go, Scout’s honour.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Ron replied, tenderly patting Kirsty’s shoulder as he walked past her and into the hallway. ‘It’s good to have you home,’ he called over his shoulder.
Kirsty watched Ron’s silhouette disappear down the dim hallway as she took a deep breath and flopped down into his recliner. She was absolutely knackered but the thrill of being home outweighed all of her weariness and reservations. Tomorrow was a new day and she couldn’t wait to wake up to it. Her life back in Australia had begun and she was going to make the most of it. To do this she knew she had to try to forget her past, as it was the only way forward. But did she have the courage to do it?
Chapter 5
BREAKFAST was over before sunrise for Kirsty, while the moon still glowed among the hundreds of sparkling stars on the horizon. The moonlight illuminated the morning mist as it snaked its way around the valleys, giving them a ghostly feel. She sat in her favourite spot on the cottage verandah with a pannikin of tea on her hands, gazing out over the paddocks. Even after almost two months of being home she still got up early before work to admire it all.
Autumn was announcing its arrival, the morning crisp, and the gentle breeze carrying with it a hint of the cooler weather to come. Kirsty loved the winter months at Hidden Valley – the days were still sunny and warm but at night and in the early morning it was chilly enough for slippers and her favourite fluffy robe. Sometimes, on rare occasions, it was even cold enough to stoke up the fireplace. In North Queensland that was a treat.
With a wisp of a smile, Kirsty thought back to the morning she had woken up to no central heating in London. It still hadn’t been fixed when she left and she wondered if Mr-Fix-It-Tomorrow had done anything about it yet. That brought her thoughts round to Jo – she missed her terribly. Although they’d spoken on the phone a few times and also kept in contact with emails and Facebook, it wasn’t the same as spending time together. Jo’s job was going great guns and she was making the most of her time left in the UK. Only four more months and Jo would be home.
The tired squeak of the flyscreen door grabbed Kirsty’s attention as Aden wandered out onto the verandah. Tousling his wayward bed hair, he stretched his arms high in the air and yawned broadly before he turned around and spotted her. He was dressed only in a pair of well-worn jeans, his bare chest tanned and muscled, a tattoo of a bucking horse adorning his right pec. A soft feathering of black hair sat around his belly button and Kirsty couldn’t help but follow its path down to the top of his jeans, which it vanished beneath. She quickly looked away before Aden caught her, feeling a luxurious rush of lust wash over her. No harm in looking, she thought. Who could b
lame her? Aden Maloney oozed sex appeal, and the best thing was, he seemed oblivious to the way women drooled over him. It made him all the more attractive.
Since arriving back at Flame Tree Hill she had found herself more relaxed around Aden than she’d expected. He didn’t seem to bait her like he had when they were teenagers. He wasn’t at home much with his veterinary work, but when he was he was very helpful, happily doing his share of the cleaning, even cooking dinner a few nights a week for her and Robbie . . . and he was a darn good cook. He still had a wicked sense of humour and Kirsty found herself laughing more than she had in years. His time away in the city had obviously done him good. He seemed more grown up and wiser. A bit like her, she hoped.
‘Good morning, Kirsty.’ His husky morning voice made her heart skitter.
‘Morning, Aden. Sleep well?’
‘Like a baby, as always. Got a day off today, but do you reckon I could sleep in? Not a bloody chance. I’m too used to getting up before the crack of dawn to get to work.’
‘Yeah, it’s been really busy for you, which is great news, hey. And it means you’ll be hanging around Hidden Valley for a while,’ Kirsty replied. The nearest vet was an hour’s drive away, and Aden’s mobile vet business had filled a real gap in the market. That, combined with the fact he was a local boy, meant he had more work than he knew what to do with.
Aden grinned at her, his mischievous eyes sparkling. He took a sip of his coffee. ‘Yep, it sure does, and no complaints here about the long hours. I’ve always been one to get out of bed before sun-up. I can’t believe how my business has taken off. Robbie was right when he said there was a demand for a mobile vet, and the acupuncture side of it is proving really popular for the horses.’
‘I’m so happy that it’s all working out for you. And it’s refreshing to see a bloke who’s not afraid to try alternative therapies. The acupuncture side of it is fascinating, but I must admit I’m a little surprised that you even offer it as a service. I didn’t think you were the type of guy to be into acupuncture.’