The Wildwood Sisters

by Mandy Magro

  With his heels down and one arm up in the air for balance, and his stomach and back soft, Dylan flowed with the horse’s movements, rocking when Rascal rocked, ignoring his instinctive reflex to tug on the reins and instead focusing on the beautiful creature beneath him, allowing Rascal to have some freedom of movement. For if he tightened up, he would just become a spring that the horse’s exaggerated movements would bounce right out of the saddle. And then the horse would think it had won. Just like a mother with her baby, this process was all about being gentle.

  With the horse slowly beginning to wane in his fight-or-flight instincts, Dylan pushed Rascal forward by squeezing his legs, directing him into a trot and then a canter. Rascal responded to Dylan’s gentle commands without too much of a fight, the trust between man and horse now becoming evident. He guided Rascal around the yard, concentrating on his body language, making sure to change direction every now and then so the horse remained focused on his cues. Then, pulling the reins a little tighter and sitting back in the saddle, Dylan silently instructed Rascal to stop, and the horse did.

  He knew Rascal had it in him to be a good horse—until now he just hadn’t had the right person in the saddle to prove it was safe to trust a human. Mindfully tugging the reins to one side and then the other, Dylan got Rascal to bring his head to each of his knees, and then pulling a little more firmly again, he got him to back up. Thrilled with the horse’s progress, but not wanting to push him any further for today, Dylan let go of the tension on the reins and leant forward to give Rascal a rub on the neck. ‘You’re a good boy, Rascal. From the minute I laid my eyes on you I knew you had it in ya. You just needed someone to trust, didn’t ya mate?’

  Rascal’s ears twitched as he turned his head to look at Dylan, his eyes bright and focused, his body language relaxed.

  ‘Daddy!’ Annie’s angelic voice carried across the round yard, capturing Dylan’s attention. ‘You’re finally riding him, yay!’

  With Rascal turning towards the voice he loved, Dylan met eyes as dazzlingly blue as his own. Annie’s waist-length sandy blonde hair was no longer neatly in a ponytail but was instead hanging haphazardly around her petite, dirt-smudged face as she skipped along the gravel driveway. She graced him with a big gap-toothed smile and Dylan’s heart melted, as it did with so many beautifully innocent things Annie did.

  ‘Hi, sweetheart, I sure am. And Rascal’s being a very good boy…’ His eyes travelled down to the splats of mud on Annie’s school uniform. He couldn’t help but grin. Annie rarely returned from anywhere without some kind of mess covering her and her clothes. His little angel was a tomboy through and through, much like her mother, although she did love playing around with her mum’s make-up sometimes. ‘What have you been up to between the bus stop and here, Annabel Rose Anderson?’

  Annie looked down to where her dad was eyeballing, giggling as she tried unsuccessfully to tidy herself up. She sucked in her bottom lip and pointed to the left of her. ‘You can blame Bossy for that. She was so excited to see me she bowled me over right in a big yucky puddle.’ Their Great Dane, Bossy, tap danced happily beside her, her long legs proportionate to her massive head. The dog religiously met Annie at the bus stop every day and was never far from her side. They were the best of mates and it was comforting to know she had a fiercely loyal bodyguard in her canine pal.

  Dylan chuckled and rolled his eyes. ‘Poor Bossy, she always gets the blame. Even when you’re the one sneakily feeding her your dinner.’

  Trying not to laugh, Annie placed her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not my fault she pinches it from my fingers.’

  ‘Well of course she’s going to take it from your fingers when you’re dangling your hand beneath the table, Annabel.’ Dylan playfully shook his head as he spotted Annie’s two pet ducks, Funky and Groovy, making a mad dash across the round yard just so they could side-track Bossy.

  Annie grabbed Bossy’s collar, the dog eagerly eyeing his feathered friends. ‘Don’t you dare, you big bully.’ She gave her canine mate a small tap on the bum.

  Dylan looked at Bossy, scowling. ‘I’d listen to Annie if I were you…or you’ll be sleeping outside for a month.’ Bossy whined and then sat. Satisfied she wasn’t going to give in to her yearning to play catch with the ducks, Dylan glanced at his watch. ‘You’re home a little early today. Everything okay?’

  ‘Yep. Because it’s my birthday on Sunday Mr Eddie dropped me off first as a treat.’ Annie dumped her school bag on the ground and then climbed up to sit on the top barrier of the round yard, talking the entire time. Bossy eased herself down on a small patch of grass at her feet while snapping at the flies that kept landing on her nose. Annie continued. ‘Ben Harrison was a big meanie on the bus again today. He poked his tongue at me and called me a girl.’ Annie pouted as she defiantly folded her arms. ‘But don’t worry, I stuck up for myself. I’m not going to let a boy make fun of me, especially one that thinks he’s better than everyone else, just because he’s rich. What a loser!’

  Ignoring his innate urge to defend his little girl by going and giving the toffee-nosed town mayor’s teenage son Ben a stern talking to, Dylan stifled a smirk as he imagined how poised Annie would have been on the bus as she’d belittled her bully. Like her mother, Annie definitely had spunk. Directing an eager Rascal towards her, his heart both swelled with pride and ached at the same time, Annie’s wisdom beyond her almost six young years endearing, but also heartbreaking. She had been through so much—too much—and he blamed himself for not being there to protect her from the unspeakable heartache she’d felt that day. ‘That was nice of Mr Eddie. So what did you say to Ben, sweetheart?’

  ‘I told him he’s more of a girl than me, with his tight school shorts and his floppy hair hanging all over his face…and then the whole bus laughed at him.’ Annie screwed her face up. ‘I wanted to point out he had a massive pimple on his nose, too, but I didn’t!’ Throwing her hands up in the air she shook her head. ‘I felt bad that everyone was laughing at him, but that’ll teach him for picking on me in the first place.’

  Dylan nodded. ‘Ben Harrison needs to pull his head in a bit, or I’ll pull it in for him. I’m tired of him being a bully to you kids all the time. His father needs to do something about it.’

  ‘Dad, I really don’t think it would be wise of you to pull Ben’s head in. You’d probably get in loads of trouble off Mr and Mrs Harrison for that.’

  Dylan couldn’t help but chuckle at Annie’s way of thinking. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right there, sweetheart. I better leave Ben’s noggin alone.’

  ‘Ben’s noggin—you’re funny, Daddy.’ Annie tipped her head to the side.

  ‘I’d be happy to have a chat to his dad about it, if you like.’

  Annie defiantly shook her head, her eyes wide. ‘Thanks, Dad, but no way José. It’ll make me look like a tattletale, and a sissy. And besides, I don’t think his snobby father would bother doing anything about it anyway. He thinks the sun shines out of Ben’s butt.’ Rascal whinnied his hello to Annie as she gave him a rub on the neck.

  Dylan nodded in agreement. ‘Okay, I won’t say anything, for now. But if Ben picks on you again, I’m going to have to put my foot down and go and talk to his father, no ifs buts or maybes.’ He gave Annie’s hair a loving ruffle. ‘And you’re definitely no sissy, Annabel. You’re actually a very strong little girl. Grammy and I are very proud of you, sweetheart—’ he hesitated, ‘—and I know your mum would be too.’

  Annie smiled sadly, her eyes watering. She sniffled and rubbed her tears away, smudging more dirt across her cheeks. ‘Thanks, Daddy, I miss Mummy so much.’ She placed her hand over her heart. ‘I might not be able to see her anymore, but she’ll always be in here.’

  Dylan struggled to breathe, his emotions suddenly overwhelming him. Reaching out, he grabbed Annie from the railing as she wrapped her wiry arms and legs around him, squeezing him tight. He hugged her close to him, burying his head in her hair, wishing with everything he had that he could take his d
arling little girl’s sorrow away. He felt terrible that a mere mention of her mother could send Annie into floods of tears. But he couldn’t pretend Shelley had never been a part of their lives either. Annie’s psychologist had hammered home the fact it was very important he and Annie talk about Shelley, as often as possible.

  It was a fine line to walk, and one he and Annie had to balance on for the rest of their lives—but they would get through it together. He kissed his daughter on the cheek, holding his lips there for a few seconds as he closed his eyes and tried to push his own emotions away. ‘I love you, Annie, with all my heart.’

  Annie squeezed him tighter. ‘I love you, too, Daddy, a million trillion bazillion.’

  CHAPTER

  3

  Retreating from the icy chill of her panoramic balcony after watching dawn break over the crimson horizon, Renee stepped back into the embracing warmth of her heated apartment, her breath escaping her in little misty puffs. The Melbourne June temperature was sitting at a frosty five degrees. Closing the double-glazed door firmly behind her, Renee breathed a sigh of relief as the noise from the busy road twenty-six floors down disappeared along with the chill factor. Although she loved the hustle and bustle of the city, the hectic life outside of her apartment made her head spin this early in the morning.

  Years of living in the city had transformed her from a rise-before-the-sun country girl to someone who was not usually out of bed before eight in the morning. Her realtor job allowed her the luxury of working her own hours, and also meant many over-dinner business deals with high profile clients at high class inner-city restaurants, one of the many perks of her job—albeit at times tiring. As a result she’d become a little nocturnal over the years. Watching the golden orb of the sun climb high into the powdery blue sky had been a pleasant distraction from her aching heart, but it hadn’t been enough to alleviate the nerves that kept making her belly do backflips, forward rolls and somersaults. She seriously needed to get a grip, or she was going to end up making herself physically sick again, as she had last night.

  Still shivering, she pulled her woolly robe tighter around her, while wishing she were instead somewhere hot and sunshiny with beads of sweat running down her cheeks and back. Even though it was the beginning of winter, she knew the Far North Queensland temperature would still be sitting in the luxurious high-twenties today, maybe even higher. The very thought made her smile dreamily. What she would give to be able to wander outside in a pair of shorts and a singlet in winter, with nothing to see for miles other than endless space, green paddocks, horses and cattle. It would certainly be a nice break from her usually hectic city lifestyle. And to be pulling on her old Blundstone boots again, and jumping in the saddle for the day to tend to the cattle, fix fences or whatever needed doing, without another soul in sight, would replenish her weary mind and body. If only she could click her fingers and get rid of her heartbreaking past, it would make going home a hell of a lot easier.

  Her home. Wildwood Acres. A haunting past still lingered there, unanswered questions making it impossible for her to let that night go, but she had to find a way to do just that—let it go. Venturing back there would give her an opportunity to cut the ropes that bound her to her long-ago life. Not that she wanted to forget it all—there were many happy memories there too, ones she’d never get the chance to have again with her sister.

  Come on Reni, don’t be a party pooper. Let’s climb up on the roof and pretend we can fly. You know, like they did on the Titanic.

  We’ll break our legs if we fall, sis!

  Only if we miss the trampoline.

  My God, Scarlet, Dad will kill us if he catches us.

  He’s not going to catch us, me and you are too clever for that…

  Two hours later her dad was wrapping her sprained ankle up tightly with a bandage, and reminding both her and Scarlet, very sternly, how dangerous their little attempt at flying had been. Her mind floating away to another time and place, Renee jumped as Kat rubbed up against her ugg boots, purring softly. She leant over and picked her feline mate up, cuddling her as she massaged behind her ears. Kat pushed her head further into Renee’s fingers and purred louder.

  ‘I gather you’re ready for breakfast?’

  Kat meowed, her dark green eyes wide.

  Renee smiled. ‘Righto then, duck and barramundi in jus it is. You think you can handle that?’

  Kat meowed once again.

  Renee emptied the can of gourmet cat food into a ceramic bowl that Tia had given Kat for Christmas last year—which read ‘world’s most spoilt cat’—then placed it down on the laundry floor, shaking her head as she watched Kat pick the food up with her claws and then delicately put it in her mouth. It never ceased to amaze her how she ate. She certainly was a moggy unto her own.

  Wandering back into the kitchen, Renee sculled the last of her fourth black coffee for the morning, screwing up her face because it was cold, and then tugged her unruly hair into a messy ponytail. She felt like death warmed up after spending the night chasing her pillow around the bed. She’d be lucky to have got an hour’s sleep, and even when she had slept, she’d been tormented by dreams of a faceless person chasing her with a knife dripping with her sister’s blood. She had awoken from the nightmare in a pool of sweat, her heart trying to bash its way out of her rib cage, but she was determined to not let her apprehension beat her. She’d had enough of living in fear. It was about time she stopped balancing on the edge of the cliff, and jumped. Who knew, maybe the cliff was only a few metres high, and not this menacing drop as she had always imagined it to be. There was only one way to find out. Grabbing her mobile from the kitchen bench, she dialled Tia’s number. This was it. She was finally going to do it. No more procrastinating.

  After six rings the call rang out and went to message bank. And she remembered it was Sunday morning. Damn it! In her mental haze she’d forgotten Tia would have only crawled into bed an hour ago after pulling back-to-back shifts at the hospital. As Tia had told her countless times, the emergency room was always rife with drug overdoses, bar fight casualties and car accident victims on a Saturday night. She hoped she hadn’t woken Tia up. ‘Hey honey, it’s Renee. Call me back as soon as you get this message. It’s really urgent. Sorry if I woke you…’

  Renee hung up, wondering why she’d just whispered—seeing as Tia couldn’t hear her leaving a message—and then began to pace the kitchen once more while chewing on the corner of an already short fingernail. She shouldn’t have had that last cuppa, especially on an empty stomach; the caffeine was making her extra jittery. Grabbing a loaf of chia spelt bread from the freezer, she placed two pieces into the toaster and then pulled a jar of crunchy peanut butter from the cupboard. She had to eat something before her stomach ate itself.

  Two minutes later her mobile began to play her favourite song of all time, ‘Hungry Eyes’, from the film Dirty Dancing. A bit lame, but she didn’t care—she was a hopeless romantic at heart. She snatched it from the kitchen bench. ‘Hey, Tia, I’m so sorry I woke you.’ She sounded breathless. She needed to calm down.

  ‘Hey, Reni, it’s seven thirty on a Sunday morning…so I’m gathering you haven’t even been to bed yet?’ Tia said drowsily. ‘And if you have been to bed, what in the hell are you doing up this early?’

  ‘Oh, um, I just wanted to see the sun come up, that’s all.’

  ‘You got out of bed on a Sunday morning to watch the sun come up? Now I’m worried. What’s up, babe? Is everything okay?’

  Renee ignored the butterflies flapping furiously in her stomach as she pulled a plate from her overhead cupboards. ‘Um, you know how you’ve been waiting for a place to come up for rent in my apartment block?’

  ‘Oh my God, really? There’s one for rent?’ Tia was suddenly wide-awake as she almost leapt through the phone.

  ‘Yeah, something like that. Um, well—’

  ‘Reni, you’re acting all weird. Just spit it out…’ Tia dropped her voice. ‘Is Mr Fancy-pants still there? Is that
why you’re acting strange? Has he upset you—because if he has I’ll come round there and kick him in the balls with my spiky footy boots.’

  Renee giggled through her nerviness. Tia was always so protective. Squeezing the phone between her shoulder and ear, she began buttering her toast. ‘My God, draw a breath before you pass out. No, Mr Fancy-pants got sent on his merry way last night, much to his displeasure. And while we’re on the subject, I can’t believe you set me up with another bloke who cares more about his hair than I do.’

  ‘Oh, Reni, you aren’t going to find that hunky spunk manly man you always talk about here in the city—you should know that by now. Those rough and ready blokes that make you go all tingly and gaga tend to live in country habitat. You know, where there are tractors to be fixed while shirtless and covered in grease, and wild horses to be tamed with their bare hands while wearing nothing but leather chaps.’

  Renee laughed. ‘You’ve been reading too many bad novels. The men in the country are nothing like the ones on the cowboy calendar in your kitchen, Tia.’ Although smirking at her best friend’s endearing lack of country knowledge, Renee needed to stay focused on what she was about to say. ‘Actually, this is a little more serious than my rotten love life.’

  ‘Well in that case, I’m coming over. By the sounds of it you’re in need of some girly company.’

  ‘You’re buggered from work, Tia, I don’t want you to have to do that.’

  ‘I’m already pulling on my ugg boots and about to head out the front door, so I’m not taking no for an answer. Hope you don’t mind the fact I’ll still be in my PJs.’